


Highland Fling

by Lady of Spain (ladyofspain7)



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-30 02:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12644574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofspain7/pseuds/Lady%20of%20Spain
Summary: Jamie and Claire sense an instant connection when they meet. So when Dougal makes it clear that he intends to wed Claire, she runs to Jamie, and he, in turn, runs with her.





	1. A Painful Start

Highland Fling

By Lady of Spain

* * *

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns Outlander                          Banner by LOS

A/N: This story begins in familiar territory, but I assure you it will veer away from the original very soon.

**. . . . .**

The room was dark as a dungeon, yet I could see the outline of a young man with curly Titian locks, sitting on a wooden bench, holding his sword arm with his other hand, and panting with pain. I listened to the conversation of my captors and realized from the context that the injured man had dislocated his shoulder. The short, grungy looking Scotsman with the beard and poorly maintained teeth stood in front of the other poor sod, ready to _fix_ the dislocation. By fix, I mean to say that his ministrations would not end well. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the ignorant oaf was about to break the man’s arm!

 

I could not in good conscience allow him to proceed. Taking a stride forward, I yelled, “You mustn’t do it that way. It will cause more damage, and certainly break his arm.”

 

The tall man—I imagined to be their leader—looked at me, and sneered. “You have knowledge wi’ this kind o’ thin’, Lass?”

 

If he only knew …“Yes,” I ventured. “I’ve seen war, and have had a wealth of experience at repairing damaged limbs.”

 

He threw up his hands. “See to it, then.”

 

The first soldier took offense at being usurped by a mere woman, and a foreigner at that, and forced his way toward me, blocking my progress. He turned to the leader, and growled, “Ye mean to tell me, ye’re gonta let this cheeky Outlander fix the loose joint in Jamie’s arm? Christ, Dougal, how d’ye ken as this wee vixen isna a spy for the English, and is here to ruin a good fighter.”

 

Dougal glared at the belligerent runt. “Step aside, Angus, lest ye wanta challenge me for the position o’ warchief. Now let the Sassenach show us how it’s doon.”

 

I scanned the faces surrounding me. “All right then … I’ll need two strong men to hold him while I do this.”

 

The warchief pointed a finger at two of them. “Murtagh, Duncan, do as the woman says.”

 

Kneeling beside the man they called Jamie, I looked up at him and explained what I was about to do. “Jamie, is it?”

 

He nodded, his leg bouncing slightly in anticipation of amplified pain, I suppose.

 

“All right then, Jamie. I have to rotate your forearm so it’s properly positioned before I can slide your upper arm into the joint. Ready?”

 

He flinched just as I barely touched him, and winced through his teeth. A loud grunt sounded as I turned the forearm. Glancing up at my assistants, I admonished, “Hold him steady now.”

 

I pulled down initially, then pushed the bone up into the joint with all my strength, and heard a snap as it locked into place. Jamie gasped loudly during the ordeal. Then he looked at me, once the job was done, blinking in amazement, and exhaled a big breath of relief. “Thank ye kindly, Claire. It feels a might better now.”

 

I gazed at my reluctant patient, the color of his eyes indistinguishable, but the firelight reflecting off them, and the sweet smile he imparted, assured me that I was safe, despite the rough and filthy condition of these men.

 

Searching the eyes of the Highland group, I asked, “Does anyone of you have something I can use to strap his arm across his torso? It needs to be immobilized.” I noticed a strip of leather at Angus’ waist. “You there, what about your belt?”

 

Dougal, stood there staunchly, and backhanded Angus in the chest. “Give the woman yer belt.”

 

He appeared to be shocked. “Give her my belt?”

 

“Aye. I said: _give_ her yer belt. D’ye no ken my meanin’? Or has yer brain gotten boggy from the rain?”

 

Angus grumbled under his breath, and slipped it off his breeches, handing it to me.

 

“Thank you, Angus.”

 

I fashioned a makeshift sling, buckling it securely around Jamie’s neck, and advised him against the use of his arm.

 

**. . . . .**

 

After accomplishing my goal, it was my turn to be shocked. “You’re going to let this man ride into the night when he only has the use of one arm?”

 

Dougal, in a no-nonsense manner, said, “Aye. He’s had far worse. Forbye, it isna yer concern, anaways, Lass.”

 

The man called Murtagh, shoved me forward out of the hideaway and hoisted me up onto a horse’s saddle. Jamie climbed up behind me, and with my help, spread his plaid about my shoulders to keep me warm.

 

**# # # # #**

I was cursin’ my luck as I sat there by the fire. My shoulder pained me a good deal, but it wasna half so bad as the stripes applied to my back on that dreadful day many years ago.

 

Dougal and the others were talkin’ ’bout what was to be doon wi’ me, when Murtagh walked in alongside a slip o’ a lass, wi’ wild, curly hair the color o’ burnished mahogany. She was wearin’ naught but a shift, which I found most peculiar, but she explained as she’d been forcibly removed from her coach, stripped o’ her garments, and accosted by that smarmy redcoat, _Captain_ _Black Jack Randall_.

 

My uncle finally gave the task o’ puttin’ my arm right to Angus. I was astounded as when Angus stepped forward, the brown-haired lass—Claire, I kent she said her name was—berated the man, and took o’er his job. It was a bit o’ a surprise to me, as Dougal seemed to be agreeable.

 

When she knelt afore me, I was struck by the tender look opon her face. The light from the hearth shone in her eyes … and stars and stones, they were the most beautiful I e’er did see—sherry in crystal, aye.

 

The woman spoke my name, and it was as if it were the voice o’ an angel sent to me from heaven above. She touched my arm, and I flinched as much from the leapin’ o’ my heart as from the pain.

 

Try as I might to endure it in silence, I couldna help but gasp aloud as Claire deftly slid the bone into place. It didna hurt anamore then, and I was amazed. She then strapped me op wi’ the belt off o’ Angus’ breeks.

 

After she commenced a useless argument wi’ Dougal ’bout movin’ me, we were once more on the road to Leoch; me in the saddle o’ Donas, and Claire seated between my thighs, wrapped snugly in my plaid, and leanin’ agin me in a most pleasurable way.

 

**# # # # #**

 

We rode all night, and part of the next day, when all at once, I was purposely thrown off the horse. Jamie and his cohorts raced onward, once again embroiled in warfare. It was my chance to escape, but unfortunately, Jamie found me before I had gotten very far. He was covered in blood and resmbled an actor in a horror movie, only he was not an actor, and this was no movie.

 

Once more I was forced to ride with him, until _he_ tumbled off, apparently, weak from blood loss. The foolish Scotsman had been shot through the same injured shoulder, yet never had the good sense to voice a complaint.

 

**# # # # #**

The skirmish was brief as skirmishes go, and we taught the bluidy redcoats to think twice afore tryin’ anathin’ wi’ the Highlanders agin.  We rode back to the verra place where I’d tossed Claire off Donas, laughin’ and jokin’ bout’ settin’ the Sassenachs on the run.

 

When we arrived at the spot, I couldna believe my eyes … as the lass had disappeared. Dougal sent me out to search for her. It wasna hard to follow the trail she left tho’.  E’en a blind man could find her as she took nay care to cover her tracks.

 

I found her in a clearin’ and backed her op agin’ a big spruce, a sword in my hand to persuade her to come wi’ me. The feisty woman attempted to escape—imagine that, aye! I had to admire her spirit, altho’ it was sadly misplaced. A wee lass agin’ a weel armed Scot, was nay a match as would win at this game. She couldna outrun me, nor fight agin me, so it was wi’ reluctance, as she was once agin setting her bonny rear on my horse in front o’ me.

 

Night fell, and my shoulder was throbbin’ somethin’ fierce. The blood was still runnin’ down my chest from the hole made by a musket ball as happened durin’ the battle wi’ the English scum. There was nay time to dawdle, and so I ne’er said a thin’ ’bout it to my hostage. Claire was ignorant o’ the fact, ’til as fate would have it, I got right woozy, and couldna keep my hind end in the saddle. I toppled off Donas, and landed in a heap in the middle o’ the road.

 

The men carried me into the forest at Claire’s behest. There, she saw to my wound and chastised me soundly for bein’ an imbecile. Her touch was so light and gentle, I was almost glad to be shot at, just so I could have her sittin’ her rear end opon my chest, to bandage me ’bout and strap me op proper once more. Her head was near enough to my face while she wound the sling ’round my neck, as if I’d mind to, I couldha, brushed my lips along her jaw. It was temptin’ me sorely, but I minded my manners, and let her continue on wi’out the likes o’ me buggerin’ her.

 

Dougal was adamant as we should be on the road, and so Claire offered her hand to help me op off the ground. I swear to God, almighty, a bolt o’ lightnin’ couldna have affected me more than the mere touch o’ her hand.

 

**# # # # #**

 

I was livid at the utter stupidity of these men. They carried Jamie away from the road, so I could see to his wound. I stood, staring down at the moron. “You might have told me you’d been shot. Of all the brainless … Why didn’t you say something?”

 

“It isna bad. The ball passed clean through. It was naught to trouble ye ’bout.”

 

“Bloody hell. Well, you’re troubling me now. You men and your damn, stoic nonsense!”

 

Murmuring rose up among the Scotsmen, most probably because of my use of colorful phrases. I ignored them and resorted to tearing strips off the hem of my dress to use as bandages since there seemed to be no other recourse available. I knotted them tightly so Jamie would have to really tug to remove them. He’d already been fighting with his recently injured arm, in direct opposition to my medical opinion. I shouldn’t wonder it wasn’t dangling there, useless from the abuse that was inflicted upon it.

 

Their stubborn leader insisted that we continue our journey to wherever we were going, never mind that poor Jamie was dizzy with blood loss—the callous brute.

 

**# # # # #**

 

We were but a day’s ride from Leoch, and so Dougal said we could camp for the night. Claire stood apart from us, and I went ’bout layin’ the hides on the cold ground for her to set herself to sleep. She nodded, and said, “Thank you, Jamie.” Those few words stoked the fire as was burnin’ in my heart.

 

She sat on the pallet, and Dougal instructed me, “I’m givin’ ye the duty to watch as Mrs. Beauchamp doesna decide to op and leave us, aye.”

 

“I mean ye no disrespect, Uncle, but ye can see as there’s no moon above, and the lass has nay idea which way to go. She’d be daft to leave us, and her bein’ unprotected, as weel.”

 

“That might be true, but I’m still holdin’ ye responsible to keep yer eye out on this one. She’s a tricky lass. And, as I dinna ken whether or no she’s a spy, I canna have her roamin’ these hills, ’til I’ve puzzled it out.”

 

“Aye.”

 

Glancin’ at Claire, I shrugged. “Sorry, Sassenach.”

 

She looked away, and I sighed, yearnin’ to gaze at her a bit longer.

 

 

 


	2. Stirrings of Emotion

 

 

 

Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander      Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

I set op my hides right beside hers and lay down for the night. Claire was sittin’ there, like a sphinx, starin’ at the fire. It made me uneasy, seein’ as she wasna e’en tryin’ to sleep. I kent the woman hadta be knackered, hungry as weel, and she didna eat a bite at supper neither. I looked up at her and saw a wee tear tricklin’ down her cheek.

 

I couldna stand to see a woman cry, and, so, clot-heid as I was, the only thin’ as occurred to me, was to comfort her someway. I pushed my pallet closer so as it would buttress op agin’ hers. “Sassenach. I promise ye, on my mother’s grave as nay harm will come to ye. Can ye no sleep? We still have a long ride ahead on the morrow, and ye’ll be needin’ yer rest.”

 

“I just want to go home, Jamie,” she whimpered.

 

Thinkin’ o’ my own home in Lallybroch, I said, “Aye. So do we all.”

 

I heard the breath catch in her throat, and I reached for her, restin’ her heid opon my good shoulder. She clung to me so readily, like a wee bairn, and I wrapped the blankets ’bout us and continued holdin’ onto her ’til she’d fallen asleep. I knew it was wrong o’ me to feel the way I did, but I couldna convince my heart otherwise. The lass was marrit, and I had her pressed to me. God in heaven, I wished her to stay there, e’en if I burned in hell for wishin’ it so.

 

Carefully, I lowered myself to the pallet beneath me, makin’ sure no to jostle her. Wi’ my one hand snugly wrapped ’bout her shoulders, I left a kiss at the side o’ her heid amongst her brown tresses, hopin’ agin’ hope, as she wouldna notice such a sinful act. I then closed my eyes and let slumber take me.

 

When I awoke in the morn, I was surprised to see as she was there at my shoulder still, wi’ one hand splayed on my chest. I dared no move for fear as she’d wake to find herself in this compromisin’ position. Pretendin’ to be asleep when she began to stir, I let Claire awaken, and so move away toward her own pallet, and save her the shame o’ it. I had nay wont to sully her reputation, as I kent she was a good woman. No a one o’ the party was privy to our sharin’ o’ the sleepin’ quarters. Sassenach did ne’er mention what happened, and bein’ a gentleman, I didna either. I was only glad as I was able to help her get the rest she needed for the last leg o’ our journey.

 

**# # # # #**

That brute, Dougal, finally relented and let us camp for the first time this night. I kept my mouth shut and stood as far away from the motley crew as possible. Glaring at them, I stood with my arms folded across my chest. I was cold and famished and wanted to cry, but I refused to give the brigands the satisfaction. Jamie came to me, offering his plaid and a plate of food. I declined both.

 

“Sassenach,” he pleaded, “I ken ye must be hungry; chilled as weel. We canna let ye starve yerself, nor catch yer death neither.”

 

Snarling at him, I said, “I don’t want or _need_ food, or anything else from you for that matter, so just leave me alone.” I immediately regretted my outburst. He certainly didn’t deserve my wrath. The blameless man took it in stride, and never struck back at me. Instead, a look of concern passed over his features. “Weel, aye, if that’s what ye truly want. Can ye leastwise take a swig o’ my whiskey tho’… please?”

 

I muttered an oath of ill wish under my breath, but grabbed his flask gratefully, and took several swallows.

 

As the time wore on, I continued to stand back from the group, despite the desire to do nothing more than lie down and go to sleep. Jamie laid out some fur-covered hides, executing it as best he could, being one-handed. I imagined they would be our beds for the night.

 

Nodding to me, he gestured with his left hand for me to sit. I did so, but only because I didn’t relish slumping to the ground from fatigue and having the poor boy trying to break my fall.

 

I continued to sit in utmost silence, watching the fools cracking jokes, laughing, telling bawdy stories, and drinking themselves senseless. Most of their banter was spoken in Gaelic. The lewd stories were told in English, I’m convinced, for my benefit. One of them would look up occasionally, especially Dougal, to ascertain my reaction. I noticed that Jamie sat with them, but didn’t contribute to the ribaldry. At least he was a gentleman; I admired him for that.

 

One by one, the men retired for the night, and even Jamie lay down beside me. I still hadn’t surrendered to exhaustion, when the Scotsman assured me I was safe from harm. Tired, and scared, and totally confused, my emotions finally got the better of me. My captor lined his pallet up close to mine, and when I felt that the tidal wave of tears was about to commence, he seemed to sense it and buried my head in his uninjured shoulder. Wool blankets were immediately wound about me, and his good arm held me tight.

 

I was amazed at the strength in that arm. He was very tall and built as solid as a rock face, and while he wasn’t Frank, I liked the feel of him, enclosed about me. Greedy for what little comfort he could impart, I latched onto him, welcoming his warmth, and compassion.

 

In the next few minutes, I seemed to have fallen asleep, as much from the blessed heat he radiated as from exhaustion. When it was morning, I was appalled to see that I was still in his embrace. What he must think of me ... Luckily, Jamie wasn’t awake yet, so I had time to put a bit of distance between us before he discovered what happened. I was thankful for his willingness to soothe me in my time of distress, however, and if I actually wanted to admit it, I had enjoyed the intimacy, much to my shame. I told myself that it was just my emotions playing tricks on me, that was all my disgraceful actions were, and nothing more, but when I gazed upon his face in sweet repose, I felt the stirrings of an intangible something in my heart. I thought of Frank, and my face burned with the humiliating knowledge of my betrayal to him.

 

**# # # # #**

Wi’ Claire sittin’ afore me, so near yet so far away, I was saddened to ken as this might be the last time to feel her close; to have her body agin’ me. My heart stuttered and stopped as we approached the courtyard at Leoch, and when I helped her to climb down from Donas, I felt as if my soul had op and died.

 

Fitz came runnin’ to greet us, givin’ the Sassenach a most peculiar look. I imagine it was because o’ the clothes she was wearin’, or no wearin’ if truth be told.

 

Claire told Fitz, “Do you have somewhere that I can tend to Jamie? He’s been injured, and his bandages require changing.”

 

I put op a tussle for appearance sake, but in truth, I wished nothin’ more than to have the woman touch me agin. It was unseemly for my real intention to be unmasked. The lass was, after all, someone’s wife, but och … how I yearned to be that lucky bugger. 

 

Fitz took her away from me, and Dougal stealthily glanced my way. I ken as he was privy to my verra thoughts ’bout the lass, but it seemed as he had those same thoughts as weel. I watched as his eyes turned and followed her into the castle. Unlike myself, Dougal was capable o’ carryin’ out his lustful thoughts. _I swear to god, if he so much as places a fingertip opon her, I’ll make him pay dearly for the act._ I made op my mind then and there to protect her from anathin’ and anyone who dared hurt her.

 

**# # # # #**

Mrs. Fitzgibbons led me to a private chamber where I could minister to Jamie. She also supplied me with fresh cloth strips, and some herbs which were useful in their healing properties.

 

When I had uncovered Jamie’s wound, I simultaneously had a view of the ghastly scars upon his back, put there no doubt by a madman with a merciless arm, and a whip with a nasty bite. Whoever did this to him, was a disciple of Satan in his cruelty. How could such a man inflict that much pain on one person? Knowing Jamie for even as short a time as I had, I found no reason to believe he could perform a criminal act worthy of this kind of punishment.

 

 

When I finished my ministrations, I came round in front of him, and crouched down to tie the loose end of the sling around his neck. As I completed the knot, I leaned back to inspect my work. Up until this time, I had never really scrutinized the face of the man whose wounds I had attended to. It was always dark in my surroundings, or I was perched in the saddle with my back to him. Looking up now, I saw Jamie staring at me in a most unnerving manner. At the same time, I was thrown for a loop, as I gazed into the bluest eyes I had ever seen before. They were the color of the sky in summer, or a fathomless lake … so blue that I felt I could fall into them and drown, gladly.

 

I had to avert my eyes before I surrendered to their hypnotic power. Peering anywhere but at the ginger-headed Adonis, I heard him say, “Ye have a gentle touch ’bout ye, Sassenach. I expect yer husband kens how lucky he is to have one such as yerself to wife.”

 

Frank … I had a husband in 1945, and yet, I was entertaining thoughts of curly Titian hair, a dimpled chin, and azure eyes. What was wrong with me?

 

The memory of my Frank seemed to be fading little by little whenever I was in close proximity of this towering Scotsman. If I had any sense, I would stay away from him, but—but what? Did I want to? I had heard of women falling in love with their kidnappers … nonsense. I was doing no such thing. What a preposterous notion. I scarcely knew the man. No more than four days had elapsed since our first meeting. I had to get back to my husband, no matter what it took, then everything would be all right. The confusion would vanish. My heart belonged to him and only him; I had to believe that.

 

Still … Jamie’s next words unleashed a torrent of emotion. I risked a glance at him as he said, “I’m sorry. Is he no alive then?”

 

I was embarrassed and aghast at the thoughts swirling about in my head. In an instant I was on my knees, sobbing. He misconstrued the reason for my breakdown, supposing that my husband was dead. In actuality, he was yet to be born, but in a sense, Jamie was correct in his assumption. Frank was not alive, and I said as much.

 

The sweet boy scooped me up with one arm, and hugged me to his chest, whispering words of consolation, or so he imagined. “Shh … it’s all right, Sassenach. In time, the pain will rightly pass, and his life will be but a cherished memory.”

 

Once again in his arms, I felt comfort, security—and something more. He stroked my hair; his very touch causing wild flutterings in my heart. I hated myself but the feeling was real, and could not be denied. Oh god, this was so wrong; what was I going to do?

 


	3. Matters of the Heart

 

 

Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander.     Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

The room was weel lit, and I was a bit anxious ye might say. The lass would now be privy to the disfigurin’ marks on my back left by the whip as was held by Captain Randall. I didna wish her to pity me, as many people were wont to do when they laid their eyes on the pathetic sight. She made no so much as a comment, for which I was duly grateful.

 

Her attentions to my wound were most carefully doon. She applied a soothin’ poultice, and laid a cloth opon it, gentle as a feather. Stars and stones, and when her hand brushed agin’ my shoulder, it was as if I’d been kissed by an otherworldly being. I nearly shuddered at the touch o’ it. I sighed … it was no fair as the Sassenach came here and stole my heart away so easily, with nay thought o’ the hurt she’d have left behind. She’d be wi’ her husband soon, leavin’ this Scotsman alone and in misery.

 

Twenty and three years, I’d walked this earth, and ne’er once longed for the love o’ a woman, and now as I was pierced by Cupid’s dart, I found as his aim was amiss. Claire was a lass I ached for, but couldna have. Why did she hafta be marrit already? I wished it was no so, but had to face the truth o’ it, sad as it was.

 

Accomplishin’ her task, Claire walked ’round ’bout me to tie op the cloth as was holdin’ ever’thin’ t’gether. She leaned back to make certain it was secure, and I couldna help myself. I stared at the beautiful creature afore me.

 

Sassenach blinked as her eyes met mine, and I offered a compliment. I must’ve said the wrong thin’ as she glanced away, lookin’ nearly stricken. Was her husband dead then? Shamefully, I thought there might be hope for me after all. I had to ken for certain, and so I asked the question, “Is he no alive?”

 

The tears rained down her face, affirmin’ what I said, and my heartbeat quickened. _She’s no marrit, she’s no marrit. God in heaven, the lass as much as said she’s no marrit._ I pulled her to me, comfortin’ her, and in truth, eased the sufferin’ in my own soul as weel. Closin’ my eyes, I let my senses draw in all as was Claire … the feel o’ her form, the fragrance o’ her skin, the sound o’ her soft weepin’.  

 

When her cryin’ ceased, she stood op, wipin’ the tears from her eyes, and apologized for the display. She needna have doon that, as I was only too happy to hold her once more. Her breath hitched agin, and she backed away from me. Was she afeared? I made it known as she had nothin’ _to_ fear. I told her, “Ye need no be scairt o’ me, Claire, nor anyone else as lives here. I vow to protect ye wi’ my own body. I swear to ye, truly.”

 

She nodded, strokin’ my arm; and my knees just ’bout buckled beneath me. Claire then turned and left the room. I re-donned my sark and jerkin, picked op my weapons and such, and made my way to the dinin’ hall.

 

**. . . . .**

All heids turned as Claire entered the hall, a hush fallin’ o’er the crowd, but no for the same reason as I had. God in heaven, my verra breath faltered in my chest seein’ her, wi’ hair doon op atop her heid, in fresh new clothes, and her face all cleaned and polished. She curtsied prettily to Colum and Leticia, and was promptly offered a seat beside them. I was irritated to see as Dougal was seated near her as weel.

 

My eyes ne’er left her, but followed the beautiful Sassenach’s every movement. I wished I could go to her, and be wi’ her, but alas, Colum was suspicious o’ her motives and would undoubtedly frown on my company. He’d already invited her to his study to sort out the whys and wherefores o’ her sudden appearance in the Highlands. He and Dougal were even now busily askin’ the poor woman for her recent history, attemptin’ to uncover any covert affairs she’d been employed in. I didna think as much. She seemed to be just lost and in peculiar circumstances.

 

**# # # # #**

Mrs. Fitz helped me with my toilette and squeezed me into a miserably tight corset and skirts. She then bustled about fixing my hair so I’d be presentable at meeting with _himself_ , Colum, the Laird of Leoch.

 

The man was stricken with Toulouse Lautrec syndrome, but still exhibited an air of authority. I rehearsed the same narrative I told to the band of brigands that brought me here, whether he believed it or not was anyone’s guess. We came to the concession that I would travel to my home in a week’s time with the tinker when he arrived with his wares. After his interrogation, he walked with me to a suite rife with bottles and potions, drying herbs and a distiller. I wondered at the time why he would do that. Little did I know …

I went back to my assigned guest room after the tour and rested a few minutes to collect my wits about me, before heading to the dining area. As I arrived, the noise level abruptly plummeted, and I felt the curious—and frequently hostile stares—as I walked toward the Laird and his Lady. I’d never been to Buckingham Palace, but still had a good idea of how to curtsy, and I respectfully bowed, dipping low in their presence.

 

The din resumed when I had seated myself, much to my relief. I immediately looked about for a mass of red curls. I was amazed at the number of residents with the same hair color, and after a few minutes of searching, ultimately spotted him at the other end of the hall. He looked down as soon as our gazes met. I blushed and looked away as well. Secretly, I was thrilled that he had been watching me.

 

My thoughts of Jamie were brushed aside when Dougal and Colum set about as inquisitors, trying to trap me in the tangled web of my fabrication. Lucky for me, Frank had instilled in me a knowledge of how to avoid giving up information that would prove to be imperative to my survival here.

 

I was so nervous, that I’m ashamed to admit, I imbibed further alcohol than was prudent. I barely made it back to my bed without a disastrous fall. To say that I was more than tipsy would be an accurate estimation.

 

**. . . . .**

The next day I went out to the stables to see Jamie and remind him to have his wound cleaned and redressed. I brought lunch with me to share with him also. I stood at the gate to the paddock and tried to get his attention.

 

“Mr. MacTavish,” I called to him. “I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry.” His back was to me, and he continued leading the horse in a circle, clicking his tongue to cue the animal.

 

Since he took no notice of me, I called again, louder this time. “Mr. MacTavish, would you like some lunch?”

 

He still didn’t turn around. Was he that engrossed in his work? Then I began to think that maybe he had a problem with his hearing, although I hadn’t noticed any deficit yesterday, or any of the previous days. Surely, he couldn’t hide the fact from me for that length of time.

 

And so, I waved in a fruitless attempt to gain his notice. “You there—Mr. MacTavish, can you hear me?”

 

Auld Alec glared at me, then sidled up to Jamie, jabbing him in the arm. Jamie looked startled and peered over his shoulder. When he saw who I was, a huge grin erupted on his face. He released the rope to Alec, and he strode forward to let me enter the corral.

 

**# # # # #**

On the followin’ morn, as I was busy trainin’ Storm, one of Dougal’s new colts, I heard a woman yellin’, but I had nay thought to turn ’round. Auld Alec walked o’er to me and gave me a good poke. “Are ye deaf, man; that lass is callin’ to ye. Go see what she wants, aye?”

 

“Oh, aye.” It was a slip o’ sorts. I didna remember Dougal tellin’ Sassenach as I was called Jamie MacTavish. At any rate, she most probably thought I was deaf or leastwise, an imbecile.

 

Alec took the rope from me with a verra rude grumble, walkin’ Storm back to his stall. He was in a right sour mood this morn. His wife’s parents were yet visitin’ wi’ him then, I expected.

 

Claire stood there at the railin’ holdin’ a basket o’ food high above her heid. Openin’ the gate, I winked at her, and t’gether, we went into the stable. I gestured for her to sit down on the straw coverin’ the dirt floor.

 

“I’m certain you haven’t had any time to eat yet, so I came to share my lunch with you … that and subsequently check your bandage as well.”

 

I was reluctant to expose my back to anyone, not wantin’ to see the look o’ pity from their eyes. “I thank ye for the food, Claire, but d’ye suppose ye could see to it somewhere   more private?”

 

With a shrug, I sighed. “I’m a wee bit shy when it comes to displayin’ my back, ye ken. It’s no a pretty sight.”

 

Sassenach pivoted ’bout and pointed toward the castle. “All right then. I imagine that’s understandable. What about inside those walls after dinner?”

 

“Thank ye. That would suit me weel enough.”

 

“I’ll see if Fitz can find an appropriate room for us.”

 

She removed the food, utensils, blanket and such from the basket, spreadin’ it hither and thither o’er the straw. I began tellin’ her all ’bout my home, and growin’ op as we ate, tryin’ to impress her wi’ my sharp wit, ye might say. Her eyes twinkled in merriment, and she smiled, enjoyin’ my tales.

 

**# # # # #**

We sat together eating our victuals in the old stable. Despite my dire circumstances, I felt at ease, listening to his voice as he told stories from his life experiences and then some. His face and body movements were so animated. His eyes would grow big, with his brows lifted, his mouth moving in an exaggerated fashion and his hands gesturing wildly in a most amusing way. I found I could listen to him for hours. Jamie MacTavish was so charming as to sweep me off my feet.

 

The light shone on the ginger curls framing his face, and the blue of his eyes was kindled in mirth. I could not look away. He held me captivated in the palm of his hand.

 

I leaned my chin on a fist, totally mesmerized. “Wherever do you get all your stories, Mr. MacTavish?”

 

Wrinkles suddenly appeared on his forehead. “Why dinna ye just call me, Jamie?”

 

I was not stupid. One of my eyebrows shot up, and I understood why it was that he didn’t answer me earlier. “I take it your surname is not MacTavish?”

 

“Aye, ye’d be correct there, Lass, but Dougal would run me thru’ if I tell ye my real name.”

 

“He wouldn’t …”

 

“Och … ye dinna ken Dougal then. He is highly capable o’ murder, Sassenach, nephew or no.”

 

“To answer yer question, tho’, I expect I’ve lived what some would suppose is an excitin’ life; too excitin’ if truth be told. Ah … ye may as weel ken—I’m a wanted man. There’s a price on my heid. That bluidy captain as accosted ye afore Murtagh came to yer rescue, willna stop searchin’ the Highlands, ’til he finds me … or stomps on my grave.”

 

“How dreadful. What in the bloody hell did you do that warrants a bounty for your capture?”

 

Jamie became quieter, and I realized that this part of his life was something he wished to forget if he could. He bowed his heid, and a burst of air sounded. “I escaped from Wentworth Prison, is _what_. Ye’ve seen what Captain Randall did to me, aye?”

 

“But why? I cannot believe you’d done anything so horrible.”

 

“He was assaultin’ my sister, ye see; fairly stripped her naked in front o’ my verra eyes. He was ’bout to take her into the house and have his way wi’ her when I tried to stop him. After he knocked me senseless, he dragged me off to prison. It infuriated him because I stood op to the man; I wouldna let him break me. So, with Randall, it’s personal; a vendetta agin’ me.

 

“I spent a while in that filthy place, ’til some o’ my kin came and helped me flee to Leoch, and now I hafta have eyes in the back o’ my heid to stay one step ahead o’ the redcoats or the _Watch_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Meadow Larking

 

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**. . . . .**

Appalled could not adequately express the horror I felt as his story unfolded. “Oh, Jamie, I’m so sorry. Someday, Captain Randall will pay dearly for his crimes ... the _Black Watch_ also. And yes, I’ve heard about them. How could they turn against their own people? They’re just as bad, if not worse than the British soldiers.”

 

A wry smile lit his countenance. “We best broach a different subject. I expect I’m talkin’ too much ’bout topics I shouldna ought. My uncles dinna trust ye, Sassenach. They think ye’re a spy, ye ken.”

 

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Now I ask you—what use would any information concerning Leoch be to the British Crown? Spy indeed.”

 

I looked deep into his eyes. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

 

“Nay, I just think as ye’re a most beautiful woman lost in the Highlands.”

 

I colored at that. “Thank you, Jamie.”

 

Just then, Alec came muttering, and Jamie had to get back to work. Our little respite had come to an end.

 

**# # # # #**

 

Auld Alec made a pest o’ himself, intrudin’ on our time t’gether. “Are ye gonta sit there all afternoon chawin’ whilst I do yer work for ye?

 

“Jamie—get yer arse out here. Brimstone can use a good curryin’, and Thunder needs to be shod.”

 

I huffed in frustration and brushed the bits o’ straw from the fabric o’ my kilt. The man could be a might irritatin’ at times. And now was one o’ those times. “D’ye havta be so ill-mannered. There’s a lady present, ye ken.”

 

He mumbled, “She’s no a lady. She’s a Sassenach spy, and ever’one kens it.”

 

Claire quickly gathered op the leavin’s o’ our lunch. I kent by the way she avoided our eyes as she heard ever’ word as the clot-head spouted.

 

“Dinna mind Auld Alec. He’s getting’ on in years, and I expect, a might _touched_ to boot.”

 

“It’s all right, Jamie. I realize the people here don’t trust me, and they have every reason not to. I should really leave you to your work now. I enjoyed what time we spent together, and getting to know you better.”

 

“Sorry, I blathered on so long. Next time, I’ll let ye do some o’ the talkin’ as weel.”

 

Walkin’ her to the gate, we said our goodbyes. I watched as she left, but noticed her stop along the way to argue with Rupert. It looked to me as he’d been followin’ her. Dougal’s idea, I supposed. I laughed tho’, as the feisty lass gave him what for. Ah … she was a most singular woman, and I was fallin’ deeper and deeper into the quicksand o’ love.

 

**. . . . .**

I talked to Rupert tryin’ to glean anathin’ ’bout Claire. “I saw ye havin’ a verra heated discussion yesterday.”

 

“Aye, the warchief told me in nay uncertain terms to trail after the Sassenach ever’ time she left these walls, like some bluidy hound. I’m to keep track o’ her whereabouts at ever’ moment.”

 

“Weel, if it’s that much worry to ye, I’ll gladly take op the job. Workin’ in the stable is a bit difficult what wi’ one hand tied op. I’d take it as a favor in fact.”

 

“Och … nay. Dougal wants ye far from the lass. He sees the way she looks at ye. I believe he’s jealous.”

 

My heart sped op. “How d’ye mean? Looks at me in what way?”

 

“Are ye blind, Lad? Why, she’s all mooney-eyed when she spots ye, just like ye are when ye look at _her_. We’ve got eyes; we see the two o’ ye.

 

“Anaways, ye’re wastin’ yer time. The Sassenach is MRS. Beauchamp. So, there’s gotta be a MR. Beauchamp somewhere.”

 

“It’s no so, Rupert. She told me herself. Her husband is deceased. She’s but a widow.”

 

Rupert leaned back agin’ the wall, his eyes round as bannocks. “A widow, ye say. Ahh … now, that puts a whole new perspective on the situation. Ye’d best be watchin’ yer back, Lad, forbye I’m tellin’ ye as Dougal has designs on her as weel, what wi’ his wife gone to her grave year last.”

 

I left Rupert holdin’ op the wall while I sprang op the stairweel to my room, lighthearted, and almost giddy wi’ joy.

 

**. . . . .**

Much to my sorrow, the joy was fleetin’ faster than leaves in the wind. Murtagh came to me wi’ the news as Claire would be gone by the weekend, travelin’ wi’ Eoghan, the tinker, back to her home. For the rest o’ that week, I tried as I might to see or be near the lass as much as possible on the chance as I could persuade her to stay here and no return to Oxfordshire.

 

Standin’ in the courtyard that verra morn, I waited to see if Claire would venture outside. I noticed as Rupert was actin’ flirtacious with a buxom woman as was larkin’ ’bout the yard. Seein’ as he was busy wieldin’ his charms on the lady, I took it opon myself, to aid him in his amorous affairs by offerin’ my escort service to one certain lass with eyes the color o’ sherry. I nay sooner approached him wi’ the offer, when the Sassenach, herself, exited the castle, a basket danglin’ from her hand. 

 

I tapped my cousin on the shoulder. “Auld Alec hasna need o’ me t’day.  So, I was thinkin’ as I’d be glad to take the Sassenach off yer hands, seein’ as ye’re busy right now. Nay a one will be apprised o’ the changin’ o’ the guard so to speak. It’ll be our own wee secret, aye?”

 

He gazed at his lady companion, weighin’ my words, then back at me. “All right, Lad. Just this once, ye understand.”

 

“Oh, aye. Just this once.”

 

 I gleefully trotted toward the object o’ my affection, and was rewarded wi’ a nod, and a wan smile. My breathin’ came rapid in my chest, and my heart thundered, roilin’ ’bout fierce enough to crack a rib or two. _Ah, Claire, what have ye doon to me?_

**. . . . .**

“Where’s my jailor?”

 

I jerked my thumb o’er my shoulder. “Ye mean, Rupert, then. He’s occupied wi’ other activities.”

 

She snorted, wavin’ at the man. “I’ll bet he is.”

 

Claire looked me op and down. “So, Ginger, are you to be my escort now?”

 

“Aye. Where is it ye’d like me to take ye?”

 

“I don’t imagine you could take me to Oxfordshire?”

 

Frowning, I shook my heid.

 

“I didn’t think so, but it was certainly worth a try.” She sighed, and said, “Well, I guess no place in particular will have to do, just some place where lots of different herbs grow.”

 

“Ye’d be wantin’ to go to Sheep’s Head meadow then.”

 

Sassenach hooked her arm on mine, and said, “Lead on.”

 

**. . . . .**

I took Claire back to the stable and saddled op Donas and Brimstone. The poor lass looked petrified wi’ her face all pale as new-fallen snow. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, her name may be Brimstone, but she’s gentle as a lamb. Ye dinna hafta be scairt o’ the animal.”

 

“So you say.” She shook her head. “Jamie … I’ve never ridden alone on a horse before.”

 

“Is that so? Weel then, just hand me the reins after I get ye settled on the beast, and we’ll walk along slowly.”

 

Helpin’ her onto Brimstone’s back, I clambered aboard Donas and sidled up to the mare, taking the reins from Sassenach.

 

The meadow wasna that far away. We came to the place shortly, and I helped her down from the saddle. Stars and stones, she felt good in my arms. We fit t’gether … like a metal clasp.

 

**# # # # #**

Sheep’s Head meadow was a veritable sea of indigenous plants and herbs. I was so overcome with awe at the abundance and was instantly plucking at the leaves and berries, and filling my basket. I recognized bearberry, and valerian, burdock, and thistle, but some of them I hadn’t ever seen before. I lifted one and asked Jamie. “Do you have any idea what this plant is called?”

 

“Oh, aye. It’s _crios chuchulainn_. My da used it to heal sores and such on our horses and cattle.”

 

“Here’s another.”

 

“Ah … I ken that wee bit o’ green. It’s called grainseag. The Beaton had Fitz make me a tea from it when I had trouble passin’ my water.”

 

“And this one?” I showed him a stem with three leaves and red berries.

 

His eyes widened, and his hands extended out to stop me. “Dinna touch it, Claire.”

 

I jerked, dropping it immediately, and waited for Jamie to explain.

 

“I expect as that there is devil’s bane. Ye’d best no handle it for too long or yer fingers will prickle and then go numb.”

 

Gazing at the innocent looking little plant, I peered up in time to see Jamie holding back a laugh.

 

“That’s not funny, Jamie.”

 

“Aye, it is, for I made it op. And ye believed my ever’ word.”

 

I rolled my eyes and harrumphed in irritation.

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m no familiar wi’ herbs, only the ones as was given me at Leoch by the Beaton. I ken as there’s a tome in the surgery as can help ye wi’ the names and uses for these.”

 

“Yes, I imagine so.”

 

**. . . . .**

 

Jamie helped me gather a few more, then we sat on a hillock and talked for awhile.

 

“You mean to say you’ve never had a sweetheart before? A big handsome lad like you?”

 

“Nay, like I told ye afore, I’m no exactly a suitable mate for a girl. So I ne’er wish to break a lassie’s heart. Leastwise, I’ve ne’er been in love wi’ anyone here.”

 

“Well, that’s … sad.”

 

“Aye. Plannin’ to put it right, tho’.”

 

His eyes remained trained on me as he abruptly changed the subject.

 

“Sassenach, I need to ask ye somethin’. Rupert says as ye’ll be leavin’ wi’ the tinker when he comes to Leoch. And I was wonderin’. D’ye suppose ye could stay a bit longer?

I’ll miss ye sorely when ye go.”

 

I had to look away from those beautiful eyes before I started to cry. “I’ll miss you too.”

 

“Can ye no change yer mind, then?”

 

“I’d stay … really, I would, but I can’t. It’s impossible. I don’t belong here, Jamie. I have to go home.” _As much as I’d love to stay here with you._

 

Sitting quietly for a few minutes in the grass, Jamie pulled up a blade and twirled it about between his forefinger and thumb, staring at it blankly. He let it flutter to the ground, his head turning toward me.

 

I tried to get the comfortable feeling back. “It’s beautiful here in this meadow. Thank you for bringing me here.”

 

“It was my pleasure, truly.”

 

With a loud sigh, Jamie smiled, saying, “Weel, I ken as ye like to hear stories, but dinna ye have any to share wi’ me? Can ye no tell me ’bout yer family, yer sisters, yer brothers, yer home if ye will?”

 

I explained my traipsing about the globe with my uncle.

 

“Ah … I’m sorry ye have nay other kin.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s actually all I’ve ever known since I was ten.”

 

Clearing his throat, the Scotsman then quietly spoke. “Can I ask ye somethin’, Sassenach? I’ll understand if ye decline to answer, but I’m a bit curious, ye might say. D’ye wish to tell me ’bout yer husband? Ye dinna hafta if it makes ye uncomfortable, tho’. I canna abide makin’ ye cry agin.”  

 

I licked my lips and lifted my head toward the clouds above as if to pull down a satisfactory description from them. “Frank was a scholar. He taught history at the university in Oxford. He was very quiet and introspective.”

 

“Yer husband wasna a soldier then.”

 

I chuckled at the expression on his face. “Oh, god, no—quite the contrary. He wouldn’t exactly fit the warrior mold; he was older than most foot soldiers as well.”

 

“Older ye say?”

 

“Yes, he was thirty-nine years old when …” I glanced at the gold band still sitting on my left ring finger, and choked back the words which would complete that thought. …   _I left him behind._  

 

“It’s all right, Sassenach. Ye dinna hafta say the words.”

 

Bloody hell. I could see the compassion in his lake-blue eyes, and my heart thudded against my will. Under all the weaponry, Jamie was a gentle soul, a sweet-tempered man; I couldn’t deny it.

 


	5. Cancelled Journey

 

 

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**. . . . .**

 

I had run out of things to say, and Jamie seemed subdued at that moment, so I stood up from my seat on the grassy knoll and smoothed out my cumbersome skirt. “We ought to get back, don’t you think?”

 

“Aye, it’s just as weel.” He gestured at the bulging contents of my tote. “There’s nary a bare spot in yer willow basket for one more leaf.”

 

As he rose from the ground to face me, Jamie said, “Sassenach, wait …”

 

He reached out and plucked a cocklebur from my hair, then gently brushed the errant curls away from my face. The handsome ginger was so close to me that I could feel his warm breath wafting against the skin on my cheeks, sending waves of pleasurable tingles to places where they ought not stray.  My own breath caught somewhere inside me. I didn’t _dare_ breathe, for fear of losing my composure. Dear god, he was too close … and yet not close enough.

 

I was beginning to experience the urgent, mental push to get back to Frank. If I stayed much longer in contact with this charming Scotsman, I’d never be able to leave him. My head was hard pressed to sort out the feelings of my heart.

 

Before we left, he stooped down, and breaking off a flower stem, offered me a sprig of forget-me-nots, and the memory of the day when I passed through the stones hit me like a wrecking ball. I felt guilty that I so enjoyed Jamie’s company, and I wished with all my heart that I didn’t have to say goodbye.

 

**# # # # #**

 

A stab o’ pain at our  impendin’ separation, pierced thru me as we rode op to the stable, but then I came opon the idea to go wi’ her to eat in the dinin’ hall. Disapprovin’ eyes and mutterin’s met us as we took adjoinin’ seats. I ignored the bluidy lot o’ them. If it was my pleasure to sit next to the most bonny lass in all o’ Leoch, then I would … Sassenach or no. To hell wi’ the nay-sayers. I expect they were jealous was all.

 

My cousin, Rupert, sauntered o’er to the table and plunked himself down beside Claire. With one eyebrow quirked, he declared, “Still escortin’ Mrs. Beauchamp, I see?”

 

“Oh, aye, and deem it a pleasure. I ken ye’ve finished the business wi’ the tart in the courtyard, then?”

 

Rupert flapped at the air. “Shh … keep yer voice down, lad. Ye want all of our kin to hear ye?”

 

He then made a gesture wi’ his head toward Claire. She spoke op, in answer, rollin’ her eyes ’bout. “I’m a grown woman, Rupert. I’m not embarrassed in the least. Do you really suppose I had no clue what you were up to?”

 

“Weel, nay, but …” he started to sputter.

 

“No need to explain. You’ll just dig yourself into a deeper hole. And by the way, I’m not likely to leave the castle walls again today, and as you can plainly see, I have no need of both of you yapping at my heels.”

 

Rupert huffed. “I’m no so stupid as to ken as I’m no wanted to be in association wi’ the likes o’ ye. Ye dinna havta give me cause to grieve. I’ll go and sit o’er by Murtagh. He’ll be glad o’ my company.”

 

Claire smiled sweetly at him, and whirled ’round, winkin’ in my direction.

 

That last statement was a puzzle to me. “Did ye mean what ye said ’bout me yappin’ at yer heels? Wasna verra flatterin’, Lass.”

 

Dabbing at her lips wi’ a napkin, she offered, “Oh, Jamie. I was only toying with him.”

 

What a peculiar phrase. “Toyin’?”

 

“It was a _jest_ , but it worked, didn’t it? We’re rid of him.”

 

With a rather smug expression, she lifted her tumbler o’ whiskey, takin’ a sip. She wanted to rid ourselves o’ the pest, aye? A _forlorn hope_ began to swell once agin wi’in my breast.”

 

**. . . . .**

For the next two days, I followed the Sassenach, hopin’ to talk to her, or leastwise, catch a glimpse o’ her face. Ever’ moment was precious, and my heart was beatin’ so as the dreaded day arrived when she would part from me.

 

I went out to the courtyard when the tinker’s cart rumbled to a halt. I tried to smile at Claire when she scurried out o’ the castle, but it was nay use. I couldna make my smile stick to my lips when my heart was torn in twain.  She loaded a basket onto the wagon’s bed wi’ victuals prepared by Fitz.

 

Tho’ I was crushed, I walked to her bravely, and said, “It was my pleasure to be acquainted wi’ ye. God speed to ye.” I lifted her hand and kissed the soft skin there. Then to my amazement, Ned Gowan bolted thru the gate, and racin’ toward the cart, took her by the arm, whisking her off somewhere. Another o’ Colum’s lackeys retrieved the basket, and Eoghan went on his merry way, wi’out his bonny passenger.

 

God in heaven, I didna ken what magic this was, but it seemed as my prayers were answered. I nearly sank to my knees in thankfulness. My Sassenach would be here for a smite longer.

 

**# # # # #**

My sleep was fitful, the night before my departure. And when I did drift off, I was haunted by that winsome face. Why did he have to be so amiable, and why did he have to possess the bluest eyes, the most luxurious copper curls, and that dimple in his chin? Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ—I had to get out of here before I succumbed to Jamie’s charms. I placed the pillow over my head foolishly thinking it could block out the images of that sweet man.

 

My feelings were so ambivalent. I had to at least attempt to get back to my own time, and to Frank, before I found it too difficult to tear myself away from Jamie. I kept telling myself it was just a trivial fancy. I had a perfectly good husband, yet I compared Frank to this dashing Scotsman, and my spouse came out prodigiously lacking. My god, what a fickle, scurrilous woman I had become.

 

Why did Jamie have to burst into my life, and set me on my ear? I was happy once … I thought, but now …?

 

**. . . . .**

Mrs. Fitzgibbons filled a basket with provisions for the trip to Inverness. I took a deep breath and made my way out to the tinker’s waiting cart, the wicker tote dangling from my arm. I had hoped that Jamie wouldn’t be present; the sting of our separation would fell me like an oak tree in a tornado, but alas, there he was, watching my every move. Damn him.

 

I nervously fiddled with my clothes and rearranged the contents of my basket. Maybe he would just go away. Instead, the tall ginger approached me to wish me farewell, kissing my hand. I barely kept from swooning. I gazed deep into his sad eyes and wished I had not. They were magnets, rooting me to the spot. Bloody hell, I had to go, and Jamie could have no part in my life ... or he shouldn’t. He was bound to Leoch and 1743, and I, to England, 1945, and my husband, Frank Randall.

 

Those thoughts were interrupted by Ned Gowan who unceremoniously dragged me off to Colum’s study. I turned my head as we ventured back into the castle and glanced at one of the other servants, following with the basket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie’s surprised expression change to one of … relief?

 

**. . . . .**

Colum stood there like an unyielding block of wood. My pleading so far had been falling on deaf ears.

 

“But the tinker will be leaving soon. You gave me your word; you promised I could go home.”

 

“I’m takin’ back my word. I’ve changed my way o’ thinkin’. Ye’re here, Sassenach, and we need a Beaton. It’s my pleasure as you should stay and be our healer. Fitz will help ye wi’ the cleanin’ and organizin’ o’ the surgery.”

 

“You can’t bloody well keep me here.”

 

“I can, and I will. If ye try to leave on yer own, I’ll have the dogs on ye, bringin’ ye back, so ye best get used to stayin’ in Leoch. Now, get out o’ my sight.”

 

With a death glare directed at the pompous git, I sneered, “We’ll see about this!”

 

Storming out of the Laird’s almighty presence, I brushed past Dougal in the hall, muttering all the way. By the time I entered my room, I had calmed down somewhat, and realizing the gravity of my situation, sat on the mattress mulling over my options. I had to escape somehow, but I’d bide my time until the dogs of war were lulled into a false sense of security.

 

I missed lunch and stayed in my room while the Scots were down below, now enjoying their supper and drinking their whiskey. A knock at my door startled me, then I heard Jamie’s voice, “Sassenach, are ye no gonta eat t’night?”

 

 

**# # # # #**

My thoughts went round and round ’bout in my head. I wondered what Colum had said to Claire, and why he prevented her leavin’. Then, agin’ whate’er the matter was … a right new chance had been given me to win o’er the lass’ heart. I only hoped she would have me.

 

I didna see the lass in the dinin’ hall for lunch, tho’ I looked and looked ‘bout for her. Perhaps she was busy doin’ Colum’s biddin’? It was a bit upsettin’ when she didna come down for supper either. I had to do somethin’. Sassenach wouldna starve herself would she? I decided to go to her and see as she was alright.

 

**. . . . .**

 “No … I’m not hungry, Jamie. Go away.”

 

 “Are ye sure?”

 

“Yes, please go away.”

I left accordin’ to her wishes, but I gathered some slices o’ roasted pig, bannocks, scalded pears and such and brought it all to her room.

 

“Claire, ye gotta eat to keep op yer strength. I brought ye supper; can ye no let me in? I won’t stay; I’ll just set down the food, and be off agin’.”

 

She opened the door a wee crack. “Come in, then. You can put the food on the desk. I won’t guarantee I’ll eat any of it though.”

 

“If ye change yer mind ’bout havin’ company, I’ll be in the dinin’ room for a bit.”

 

“Thank you, Jamie.”

 

I nodded. “I’ll be goin’ then.”

 

**# # # # #**

The food sat there on the desk, a glaring reminder of my unfortunate circumstances. I paced about until, exhausted, I slumped back onto the bed. I imagine night had already fallen, and overcome by this new kink in my plan, the tears burst from their dam, and I couldn’t stop them.

 

Why? Why had all this befallen me? Why had I slipped through those stupid stones? What did I ever do to deserve this end?

 

I continued to cry, when over the clamor I was making, I heard the sound of someone knocking at the door. It was that damned redhead again. He was beseeching me to allow him entrance. I’d forgotten to replace the bolt after he brought my dinner, so he strode in with not so much as a _by your leave_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


	6. Blushes and Bruises

 

 

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**. . . . .**

Goin’ by her room, I heard the lass weepin’ as if her heart would break. I couldna stand to hear her cry so. Dredgin’ op all my courage, I rapped my knuckles opon the door. She didna answer, and it scairt me. Forbye, as brazen as ye please, I tried twistin’ the knob. It wasna locked, and I rushed into the room.

 

She looked op at me, from her seat opon the bed, startled ye might say. Her eyes were red as ripened, autumn apples, and tears streaked her face.

 

“Sassenach, are ye all right?”

 

Looking away from me, she whimpered, “No, Jamie. I’m not; I’m totally miserable,” and started into a fit o’ cryin’ once more.

 

I knelt afore the lass, takin’ her hand in mine. “Whate’er it is, it canna be so bad as that.”

 

“You don’t know,” she wailed.

 

“Aye, that much is true. But I ken as this is Colum’s doin’.”

 

With a sniffle, she said, “Yes. You hit the nail on the bloody head.”

 

I got op off my knees and sat beside her. “It’s said as sometimes, if ye share yer troubles, the tellin’ o’ it lessens the pain as grabs at ye.”

 

“Oh, Jamie,” she groaned. Her breath hitched, and she latched onto me, settlin’ her heid opon my chest. I held her tight agin’ me for the longest time, feelin’ her chest heave wi’ each sob, and patted her hair and back, tryin’ my best at comfortin’ her. “Shh … there now. It’s all right, Claire. Ye just let all the hurt tumble out wi’ yer tears.”

 

Whisperin’ in her ear, I asked, “D’ye wanta tell me what’s vexin’ ye so?”

 

After several failed attempts to speak, she lifted her head, and stuttered, “He went back on his word. He won’t let me go. He wants me to stay here as his prisoner and be Leoch’s healer.”

 

I nodded and kent who she was goin’ on ’bout. “Colum, ye mean ...”

 

“Yes, Colum.”

 

“Weel, I’m sorry as this upset ye, but stars and stones, I swear to god, I’m pleased as ye’re here for a while more.  I didna want for ye to go. When I saw ye in the courtyard this morn, I thought my heart would freeze o’er. I could scarcely say goodbye to ye.”

 

Her eyes of sherry pierced clear to my soul as she murmured, “You’re my only friend, Jamie.”

 

I smiled at that and wiped the tears from her face. “I’d best go on to my room, or the tongues’ll be waggin’ all day come tomorrow, aye? Are ye feelin’ a wee bit better now?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Winkin’ at her, I stood, and said, “All in a day’s work, Sassenach.”

 

Her food was sittin’ untouched on the top o’ the desk, I noticed. “Can ye promise me one thin’ afore I leave tho’?”

 

With her head bowed, she sheepishly answered, “I suppose …”

 

“Can ye please eat some o’ the food I brought ye?”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“Good.”

 

I backed op, turned, and poked my head out the door, glancin’ this way and that, to be certain there were nay gossipin’ servants ’bout, then made my way to my room. As I lay me down to sleep, I couldna dislodge the smile as was curling my lips. The Sassenach would stay, and my heart was so verra glad.

 

# # # # #

 

Jamie was there when I needed him—no dithering on that account. Admittedly, I was more than a bit embarrassed though, at my display of emotion the previous night. The poor man must’ve been beside himself seeing me in such a state of near hysteria. He was absolutely correct, however, advising me to share my disparaging thoughts. I felt that a great burden had lifted. It was as if in holding me in his strong arms, he had absorbed some of the hurt that had been so ruthlessly inflicted upon me. After he left, I was feeling a renewal of spirit, and I vowed to buck up. I’d be damned if I let that arrogant scut of a Laird, see how he had bowed me. I’d show him; stiff upper lip and all that …

 

I went to the surgery the following day. Mrs. Fitzgibbons had worked her miracle. Two of her scullions spit-polished the place. Every bottle, tin, and surface was spotless, shining, and dust-free. After my white glove inspection, I traipsed along the hillocks, bordering the castle. Rupert was wise enough to stay back far enough from me as to not incur my wrath.

 

It was on this very day in which I chanced upon a woman by the name of Geillis Duncan. She apparently housed similar interest in herbs and other botanicals, and to my delight, we struck up a lively discussion of plants and their medicinal uses.

 

She followed me and my _prison guard_ to the dining hall, where we continued our conversation while eating lunch. Jamie found us and sat across the way. My pulse began to pound in response, and Geillis nudged me. When I pivoted to see what my new friend wanted, she just raised an eyebrow, peering at us, one to the other. Her expression needed no translation, and the look in Jamie’s eyes didn’t either. In affirmation, my cheeks reddened slightly, and the ginger nodded, grinning at the humiliating spectacle. My word—was I being reduced to a besotted school girl again?

 

I wished he would have taken a seat somewhere else. As it stood, I couldn’t repress the crimson mask that had spread over my cheeks, and the heat was growing substantially hotter. I’m sure everyone at the table was a witness to my shame, Jamie most of all.

 

My conversation faltered, and Geillis, damn her hide, laughed at my uncomfortable condition. “It seems as though you two may have somethin’ to talk ’bout, aye?”

 

“No … I …”

 

Her head bobbled back and forth, emphasizing every word. “Deny it all ye want, Claire, but yer face is red as a beetroot. And Jamie, here, appears to be glad o’ it.”

 

“I’ll leave ye to yer own devices then. I’ll be in the petition hall, later on. I’ll see ye there.”

 

With a swish of her skirts, she stood and vacated the spot on the wooden chair. Glancing quickly at Jamie, I stood as well. I had to get out from under the stare of those lake-blue eyes.

 

He jerked upright. “Somethin’ the matter?”

 

“I’ve got to get back to the surgery. There may be patients waiting.”

 

The Scotsman started to get up from the table. “I’ll go wi’ ye.”

 

I panicked and patted furiously at the air like a frazzled hummingbird. “Oh, no, no. You eat your food. I don’t want to put you out.”

 

“It’s nay trouble, Sassenach.”

 

Turning away abruptly, and without comment, I rushed from the hall, leaving him standing there, baffled.

 

**# # # # #**

 

There was nay sign of the Sassenach all mornin’ long. I couldna wait for the time to pass in the stable, what wi’ Auld Alec scoldin’ me ’bout ever’ wee thin’, I did or didna do. So, wi’ a heavy heart, I went to fill my stomach in the hall. To my joy, I spotted the bonny lass engrossed in conversation wi’ Geillis Duncan.

 

An empty spot opened afore me, right across from the lassies. When I sat down and acknowledged their presence in a gesture o’ greetin’, Geillis peered back and forth at us. Did she notice the gleam in our eyes, then?

 

Geillis shoved Claire lightly wi’ her shoulder, and Sassenach blushed a fiery red. I couldna help but grin at the sight. It was there, then; I sensed it, e’en tho’ she hadna said as much. The lass had feelin’s for me—feelin’s as I reciprocated.

 

All at once, Geillis left, insinuatin’ as Claire and I should discuss our growin’ attraction to each other. Sassenach’s cheeks burned brighter, and stammerin’ in her embarrassment, she gave me an excuse as I easily saw thru. I wished to accompany her to the surgery so we could maybe take op that discussion, but she would have none o’ it, and hurried off. It was just as weel; her reaction to me didna lie. Our words would only confirm what I already surmised.

 

I got op myself after eatin’, and there sat our warchief at the far end o’ the table. Rupert spoke the truth, for Dougal glared at me, his face fairly green wi’ jealousy.

 

**. . . . .**

Even Auld Alec couldna bugger me much as I went ’bout my work, and when I finished, I freshened op and trotted off to witness the petitioners’ complaints. I spotted Claire right off, minglin’ as thick as thieves wi’ Geillis by her side. Claire looked decidedly beautiful this evenin’, but I didna get to her fast enough. Mrs. Fitz had a granddaughter who her da was dragging along op to the dais where Colum was handin’ out his judicious decrees.

 

Colum was to have her flogged, and I couldna let him do that. She was only ten and six years old, ye ken. It likely wouldna be an easy task for her to forget such a whippin’, as weel as the humiliation o’ itall. And so I volunteered to take her punishment. My Laird was amenable to the suggestion.

 

I requested fists, and Rupert was in fine form. I took the blows readily enough, ’til he landed one on my healin’ shoulder wound. The pain tore thru me, and I nearly fainted because o’ it. Hearing a gasp from one o’ the spectators, I turned in time to see Claire wi’ her hand o’er her mouth in horror. As I did so, my cousin struck me on the side o’ my head which sent me sprawlin’ to the stone floor, blood leakin’ from the gash he produced. With the blood shed, justice was meted out, and the pummelin’ stopped at Dougal’s command.

 

Murtagh and Angus helped me op, whilst I shook my head to clear away the stars as were swirlin’ afore my eyes. Lookin’ ’round, I noticed as Claire and Geillis were gone … to the surgery, I expected. My cousins walked me there and left me wi’ Claire to tend my wounds.

 

I supposed as she would be lovin’, and gentle, wi’ compassion for me—instead she was bristlin’ wi’ contempt. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Why did you do it? That was a foolhardy risk. You could have been killed. And wait until I talk to Rupert, and that snake-in-the-grass, Dougal. Goddamn them both.”

 

Grabbin’ at her arm, I spoke softly. “I’m fine, Sassenach, but Laoghaire would no be so if her punishment was doled to her. She’s young, and no deservin' o’ such. I expect she’s learned her lesson. The lass will be changin’ her ways after this day.”

 

Claire huffed in frustration, as she loosened my cravat and pulled aside my shirt. “Bloody hell, I hope you’re satisfied! The bullet wound has re-opened. It’s bleeding again, no thanks to the brute who did this to you.”

 

I looked op at her in adoration ne’er mindin’ the tongue lashin’ she was deliverin’. The Sassenach angel, dabbed at my throbbin’ shoulder, wi’ water as was infused wi’ some type o’ herbs. She left for a wee minute to get somethin’ from one o’ the cabinets, a bottle wi’ a sticky brown liquid in it, which she smeared o’er the injured skin. I wrinkled my nose as it was verra pungent, yet no offensive atall.

 

She covered it wi’ a square o’ fabric, then patted my chest. “There, that should suffice. But … no more fighting or standing in as a bayonet practice dummy. Is that clearly understood?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Now let me look at that gash on your jaw.”

 

Lifting my chin op wi’ her fingertips, she winced. “My god, Jamie. You’re a human disaster … your face will be a mass of purple by tomorrow. Oh … you men are such barbarians. For now, I’ll clean up that laceration, and put comfrey paste on the bruises.”

 

Clicking her tongue, she went about her task, and when she finished, she held my face in her hands, her nose inches from mine. “Honestly ... You nearly gave me heart failure this evening. Your body can’t take much more of these beatings; I can’t take it either. So you’d better vow to stay away from danger for a while.”

 

I didna mean to, but a smile snuck op onto my lips.

 

Claire stood in front o’ the hearth, her arms akimbo. “What are you smiling at, Jamie.”

 

“I’m smilin’ at ye, Claire.”

 

“Well, don’t.”

 

“I canna help it. Ye’re just such a bonny lass.”

 

“And you’re a silly arse.”

 

“Why thank ye, truly, Sassenach. And it rhymed too.”

 

“So you liked that one?’

 

“Oh, aye.”

 

“I’ve got a million in my satchel, just for you.”

 

I laughed at the wee joke, e’en tho’ my jaw ached to do so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Too Close for Comfort

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander     Banner by LOS

 

**. . . . .**

What in the world possessed him to substitute himself for that foolish girl? He was a veritable punching bag for Rupert. _Two Ton_ Tony Galento couldn’t have done a more thorough job of beating the hell out of him.

 

With my heart inching up my throat, I shook with each hammering blow, and when his cousin struck Jamie’s injured shoulder, I let out a loud gasp. He turned to see where the sound came from, giving Rupert an opening to land a right hook to the side of his jaw. The poor sod went down like a sack of grain, hitting the stone tiles with a sickening thud. My stomach nearly dropped to my feet.

 

Shock was instantly replaced with anger. I was furious with the men in this barbaric culture, and particularly, those two odious vultures, Dougal and Colum. Rupert wasn’t absent from my blacklist either. As for the girl’s redeemer … what an idiot. Didn’t he, or that young lady, even realize what damage could’ve been done? Jamie could have sustained severe internal and/or brain injuries.

 

**. . . . .**

 

Geillis led us the back way to the surgery and exited the room at our arrival to leave me to my work. I gathered up my first aid supplies; a bowl of scalding water—to which I added willow bark, calendula, cinnamon, rosemary—and a tin of comfrey paste.

As his cousins _dumped him off_ to the care of my able hands, the ire boiled up inside me anew. Unfortunately for Jamie, my fury was aimed at him, rather than the malicious monsters that caused his circumstances. Drat the lot of them.

 

All the work of repairing the wound left by the musket ball was now undone by the force of one single fist. Why had Rupert hit him there? He of all people knew that area wasn’t fully healed. I wanted to scream, and so I did.

 

After yelling at the bruised and bleeding Scotsman, I set about cleansing and sealing the wound.  I got down a bottle of Friar’s Balsam from a nearby cabinet to use as an adherent for a small gauze bandage, then applied the comfrey paste to his map of angry red and purple splotches.

 

I lifted his chin to get a gander at his jaw and winced at the gaping flesh. When I finished my ministrations, I took his face between my palms to chastise him one last time, yet the man actually smiled at me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, or his. They were alight with … love?

 

Jamie Fraser—what was I going to do with the man? The look on his face tugged at my heartstrings. I felt helpless under his power. It wasn’t a physical force, that was certain, but all the same, it could make me weak in the knees. _God help me._

 

**. . . . .**

Alone in the surgery after Jamie left, I finished putting away all my medicinal accouterments and headed for a night of sleep which, unfortunately, evaded me for some time. It was fruitless to lay awake doing nothing but fretting about the occurrences of the evening. I donned some clothes and slipped out the back door, which was situated outside the kitchen area.

 

The moon and stars were brilliant that night and the air crisp and clean. I inhaled great draughts of it, settling my mind and body.

 

As I stood there gazing up at the constellations, a rustling sounded behind me and a voice pierced the stillness of the night. “Couldna sleep?”

 

Oh, bloody hell, it was my battered Scotsman. “No … my mind wouldn’t shut down for the night.”

 

“Aye. I suppose my mind agrees wi’ ye then. I thought I’d take some air afore tryin’ to bed down agin. Looks as ye’d the same idea.”

 

I nodded and rubbed my arms; the chill starting to take hold. Why didn’t I wear my arisaid?

 

Jamie came closer. “Ye’re cold, Sassenach. Here, ye can share my plaid.”

 

He stepped forward and wrapped the woolen fabric around us both. I welcomed the warmth and yet felt uncomfortable at the same instant. His proximity caused my pulse to pound and added shivers to my body, not due to the temperature outside. Good lord, he was so close, I could practically feel each beat of his heart and every expansion of his lungs.

 

I broke the silence, more to dilute the intensity of the emotional atmosphere than anything else. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything for pain?”

 

The ginger shrugged under his plaid, and answered, “Nay. Ye need no trouble yerself. I’ve had worse, as ye ken.”

 

“That’s all very well, but still …”

 

My words were interrupted by the appearance of a tall, menacing figure that stepped from out of the shadows. Dougal. Explicit directives spewed from his mouth. “There are empty beds awaitin’ upstairs. It’s time ye were asleep. So, why are ye skulkin’ ’bout in the dark, aye? Hie ye to yer rooms then, and don’t let me catch ye out here agin.” 

 

Jamie let loose of his plaid, allowing me to take it. I begrudgingly trudged toward the kitchen door, but not before I saw Dougal grab Jamie by his injured shoulder. He stopped him and whispered something in his ear prior to releasing him. He planted himself firmly there like a sentinel, watching to be sure we went inside.

 

**# # # # #**

Sleep woudna come, so I sauntered into the hall. I sensed as maybe someone had been followin’ me down to the kitchen. As I proceeded, I peered o’er my shoulder, but there was nay a one there. Perhaps it was just my imagination. I went out the door at the rear o’ the pantry. A nice surprise awaited me, for gazin’ op at the stars was Sassenach. I surely made enough noise trampin’ thru the grass so as no to frighten her all at once.

 

Noticin’ her shiverin’ and rubbin’ at her arms, I placed my plaid about us, pulling her close. I felt her shudder e’en more so at my nearness, and joy filled my verra bein’. I breathed in the scent o’ her hair, the fragrance makin’ me dizzy. We were thus embraced when my uncle _chanced_ opon us and commanded as we should return to our rooms. Ah, so it was Dougal then, as was at trailin’ me earlier.

 

Verra irritated I was wi’ his intrusion on our privacy. The man had nay claim on Sassenach, yet here he was pryin’ us apart.

 

I gave my plaid to Claire, and when she moved forward, Dougal pulled me aside and said, “I’m given’ ye fair warnin’, Lad. Leave off. Ye’ve nary a thin’ to offer the woman.”

 

He gave me a shove, and I followed behind Claire.

 

**. . . . .**

Outside the entrance o’ her room, she handed me back my plaid. “Thank you for the use of it,” she said.

 

“Och … it was nothin’.”

 

I opened the door for her and she turned to me lookin’ right puzzled. “What did Dougal say to you back there?”

 

“Ah weel, my uncle’s a wee bit jealous whene’er he sees us t’gether. Rupert told me he fancies ye.”

 

“Dougal? The warchief hasn’t spoken more than a few words to me since I got here. How is it he fancies me?”

 

“I dinna ken the man’s mind, only as that’s the truth o’ it.”

 

She reached for the doorknob and I immediately covered her hand wi’ my own. “Claire … g’night, then. I hope to see ye agin on the morrow.”

 

“Good night, Jamie.”

 

She smiled her sweet smile at me and I sighed wi’ longin’. It seemed a long trek to my own bed, and longer still ’til I slid into the oblivion o’ dreams.

 

**# # # # #**

Dougal _fancied_ me? Oh god, no … don’t tell me that brute would begin courting me now. It would turn my stomach. Just the thought of him touching me made my flesh crawl. I made up my mind to steer clear of him. Jamie, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. I needed to stay away from him as well, but for a different reason. I found myself falling headlong in love with him, and that wouldn’t do at all. This was neither the time nor the place to let love sprinkle my thoughts. Frank was still waiting for my return. _Behave, my heart._

The next evening, there was entertainment in the main hall, and I sat alone, listening to a minstrel sing his sad, Gaelic ballads, accompanying himself on a clàrsach. Despite the words being unintelligible to my ears, the music was still enrapturing. While the melodies filled the air, I felt Jamie’s eyes on the back of my neck. It wasn’t long before he plunked down beside me. So much for avoiding the winsome Scotsman ...

 

We chatted for a while, and I noted that he would lift his bad shoulder every now and then. It obviously was bothering him. My nursing persona took over, and I told him, “Come with me, so I can check the progress of your wound, and make certain that it’s healing properly.”

 

His face lit up, and he followed me like a puppy dog—a great big, Scottish terrier.

 

**. . . . .**

 

Right up into his personal space, I began untying his cravat. I glanced at him several times while I unwound the strip of cloth, and the stare of his blue eyes never left my face. I rucked up his shirt to the side to give me a peek and removed the small cloth covering. The hole had scabbed over nicely.

 

I nodded, well pleased with the result, and re-draped his shirt. As I finished, I gazed at his countenance … and our eyes locked. I tried to move backward, but his arms shot out, drawing me toward him once again. He shook his Titian mane, as if to say, _you are not_ _going anywhere_. Then suddenly, one of his hands was cupped behind my head and his warm lips pressed to mine.

 

The sweet attack bound me helpless. I needed to break away, and I did, just for a brief second, but on seeing the yearning look in his eyes, all my restraint evaporated willy-nilly, and I found myself shamefully clinging to him, moving my mouth in a synchronous dance with his and reveling in the feel of it. I was a flame, alight with life once more. My situation no longer mattered; only Jamie mattered. My mind, my heart, my very soul was filled with him, like a fluid entity pouring into every niche of my being. 

 

My body was captive in his arms; reluctant to spoil this moment. When we finally broke the kiss, he smiled wanly, and after stroking his fingers along my cheek and hair, quietly left the surgery. I couldn’t speak, and trembling, I had to sit down waiting for my stuttering heartbeat to return to normal. Then reality struck. What had I done? I dropped my head into my hands, sighing, and wondering what to do.

 

**# # # # #**

 

 

For the next three days—being acquainted with Jamie’s lunch schedule—I took mine early, and ate apart from the hall, in my surgery. Staying away from the besotted Scotsman was taking a toll on me though, and I could just imagine how Jamie felt. He was most probably confused at my reaction. Truth be told, I was confused myself, and in addition, amazed at how much I missed him.

 

**. . . . .**

 

In the evening on the third day, Dougal came waltzing into the room. What could he possibly want?

 

Without so much as a polite greeting, he sailed into the reason for this unexpected—and I must say—unwelcome visit.

 

“Sassenach, ye’re to accompany us to collect the rents.”

 

What did that have to do with me? “The rents?”

 

“Aye, the tenants of Leoch are fain to pay their rent ever’ year. The year is op and the rent is due.”

 

“And why may I ask, am I required to go with you?”

 

“We live in dangerous times, Lass, and we ne’er ken when the redcoats may take one o’ us to task, and someone get a bullet in his chest for his trouble. Havin’ a healer, such as yerself along, would make the men feel more secure ye might say.”

 

I huffed. “And suppose I refuse to go.”

 

“Refuse all ye want; ye’ll go if we havta tie ye to the wagon.”

 

With my teeth clenched, I hissed, “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

 

I gestured to the entrance to the surgery. “What about the people here who have need of me?”

 

“We’ll only be gone for a span o’ a fortnight if all goes weel. I’m certain yer  patients will keep ’til then.”

 

I nodded. “As you say…”

 

He turned to leave, then looked back at me. “Pack yer supplies t’night, as we leave at the break o’ dawn.”

 

Well, at least this way, I was sure to be away from Jamie, and I didn’t have to resort to any devious schemes to do it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Rents and Redcoats

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander.     Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

Early the next morning, the carts were being loaded up when I saw Rupert blathering away with Angus. My ire was gaining control of me again and I strode toward them. Angus appeared wild-eyed, and promptly fled the space beside his cousin. With as much belligerence as I was capable of, I shoved at Rupert, backing him into a tree.

 

“What do you mean, by beating Jamie like that? You could have injured him permanently.”

 

“I—”

 

“Don’t give me any of your excuses. There is no excuse. You didn’t have to hit him with such force. And why in the name of all that’s holy, did you jab his shoulder when you knew full well that it wasn’t completely healed yet?”

 

“Well, Dougal, ye see—”

 

I snapped at him, scowling. “I don’t give a feather or a bloomin’ fig about Dougal. I’m talking about you here.”

 

He shrugged as if none of this was his fault.

 

“Oh, for god’s sake. Never mind. I may as well be talking to a wall. Just don’t let me catch you striking your cousin ever again. Do you hear me?”

 

“Aye. Ye have my word.”

 

I backed up and looked around. All eyes were upon me. I huffed and went to help saddle the horses. As the animals trotted from the stable, one horse, in particular, was only too familiar, and a ginger-headed Scotsman rode astride the beast. Bloody hell, what was he doing here?

 

Jamie was immediately down from the saddle and at my side; his fingers interlaced forming a cup for my foot, so he could boost me onto my mare. I nodded to him, appreciating his gentlemanly concern, yet inwardly bemoaning my misfortune at having to share his company for the duration of the trip. There was no way I could evade him now.

 

**. . . . .**

We rode side by side in silence for several miles, then he blurted, “I missed ye, Sassenach. Were ye no feelin’ weel these three days past?”

 

I smiled politely. “No—just busy.”

 

“Ah … Did I maybe said somethin’ as offended ye, then.”

 

_It wasn’t what was said, as much as what we did._

 

I didn’t get to answer, as we came to an abrupt stop; our first site for rent collection, I imagined. Dougal and Ned set up a table, with a ledger, quill and inkwell, along with a leather pouch for currency. Jamie had to help fill the wagon with the grain, eggs, fleeces, etc. that were being taken as payment for rent. I had nothing to do but peruse the scenery. I felt useless as teats on a bloody boar.

 

I sat away from the group, and when the line of tenants dwindled down to nil, we lunched on hard cheese, bannocks and a flitch of smoked bacon. How I yearned for vegetables. It was a wonder that these men weren’t beset by scurvy or beriberi. Being the healer at Leoch, I supposed it was up to me to introduce greens and other vitamin rich-foods to the Scotch diet. If nothing else, it would at least supply some variety to the bill of fare.

 

Eating alone, I noticed Jamie leaving his companions—who were immersed in telling ribald stories, or gabbling away in Gaelic—and plunking himself next to me.

 

He folded his hands and leaning toward me, said, “I’m puzzled ’bout why ye’re so distant o’ late.”

 

I winced. This was not a conversation I wanted to have. It would hurt him, but I could fathom no other way around it. “Yes, you’re right of course. We need to talk, Jamie; I owe you that much.”

 

His eyes lit up like always, and I felt dreadful at what I was about to tell him.

 

“Aye, what is it?”

 

“About the other night …” I couldn’t hold back a loud breath that escaped. “I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that, and I shouldn’t have kissed you back. It was wrong of me.”

 

“Why? I didna mind. And ye didna seem to mind much either. Ye did like it, I ken ye did.”

 

“I know, but I don’t belong here, and if I give in to my feelings and then have to leave, we’ll both be left broken-hearted.”

 

“D’ye no see how simple it is, then? Dinna leave me.”

 

“Oh, Jamie,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

 

He lifted my hand to his lips and continued to hold it. I opened my eyes to see Angus, walking toward us and peering at us quizzically, noticing, I’m sure, that my hand was enveloped in Jamie’s. Moreover, it did not escape Dougal’s notice.

**. . . . .**

 

Much to my dismay, I let down my guard after that initial encounter and Jamie pressed his advantage. He was with me every chance he got, and at night our pallets were squeezed close together. In fact, on one such night, it was so cold, I had practically slept on top of him to keep from freezing.

 

We snuck a hug or a kiss when no one was looking, or when we were under the cover of darkness. I had given up hope of seeing the stones or returning to Frank, and so I let my feelings for Jamie show. His smile made it all worthwhile.

 

**# # # # #**

I heard that the Sassenach would be accompanyin’ the men on the road for the yearly rents, so I jumped at the chance to go wi’ them. It would mean I could be in constant communion wi’ the lass, for which I was right pleased. I could think o’ nothin’ but the way we kissed when last I was wi’ her. Three days had passed, and I’d been lonely wi’out seein’ a hair on the lass’ head. I was verra worrit as she might be taken ill, bein’ around sickness and such, so gladness filled my heart when I spied her on the day o’ departure, cinchin’ the saddle on Brimstone. 

 

I hoisted her onto the animal, then climbed opon my own. Our group o’ travelers were ready wi’ all the carts loaded and horses prepared. Ridin’ beside Claire, I sensed somethin’ was amiss. Had she been ill, then? I began gettin’ a might concerned as there were no words proceedin’ from her mouth.

 

She denied it when I asked ’bout it, but her answer seemed a wee bit evasive, ye ken. So, I wondered if I’d said anathin’ as might’ve been upsettin’ to her. That wasna the case either. Leastwise, I had nay chance to uncover the matter, as we came to our first tenant site.

 

**. . . . .**

Busy as I was fillin’ the cart wi’ the things as were provided in payment for the rent, I still had my eye out for my bonny lass. I chuckled to myself as I saw her wanderin’ ’bout wi’ nary a thing to do. I expect as Claire wasna fond of bein’ idle.

 

The tenants had finished wi’ their obligations and they all op and left, and so we sat at lunch. Sassenach seated herself aways apart from us, no as I blamed her. The others talked in Gaelic, which she didna ken, and the tales as were told in English were enough to make a maiden blush. I got op and joined her.

 

I didna ken what her meanin’ was when she said we needed to talk. I expect as she felt guilty to be enjoyin’ my company and revelin’ in our first kiss, what wi’ her bein’ a recent widow and all.

 

Much to my joy, she put aside her misgivin’s tho’ and from then on, we talked and fondled, and kissed as chances presented themselves. Our love for one another was no a secret, but the others pretended to be ignorant o’ it.

 

At night, when darkness fell, I lay my pallet beside hers, and one time, it was so cold that Sassenach clambered atop me, clingin’ to my body for warmth. At first I thought I was havin’ a verra vivid dream, but I could feel her pressing her body to mine, and shiftin’ her weight now and agin. My arms wound ’round her, holdin’ her to my chest, no wishin’ her to go. I couldna sleep wi’ her form so near to mine, but ashamed as I am to admit it, I relished ever’ minute as she snuggled into me.  

 

**# # # # #**

 

Despite how careful we thought we were being, our secret was soon discovered. There was no denying the look on Jamie’s face whenever he was near me. The poor sod couldn’t help it, and god help me, I was not a good deal better. What could I do? The man was absolutely adorable, and so, our clandestine tête-à-têtes went on for quite awhile, even though it was now most probably common knowledge.

 

Then one day while on the road, we were approached by a troop of British soldiers, led by that nefarious, Captain Randall. Jamie had been riding beside me in the rear of our group and as soon as he spotted the tinge of red encroaching upon us, curbed his beast and galloped off to hunker down somewhere in safety.

 

Randall blocked the road and scanned our company, finally resting his eyes on me. “Get down from your horse, slut.”

 

Dougal flinched at that, pivoting toward me, and sprang from his animal. He helped me to the ground and stood by, defiantly. “What business have ye got wi’ the lass, Randall?”

 

“That would be _my_ business. Now, step aside.”

 

One of Dougal’s arms was extended protectively, shielding my body. “Nay, I’ll no be doin’ that ’til ye’ve stated yer intentions. She is under the protection o’ the Laird o’ Leoch and ye have no jurisdiction in our affairs.”

 

“Be that as it may, I’d like to have a particular conversation with the woman, as to the motives for her presence here. I have every reason to believe she may be a spy, and harboring such a one is a hanging offense.”

 

With his chin jutted out in an aggressive manner, Dougal spouted, “I’ll no hand her o’er to ye. Mrs. Beachamp is our healer, and we have need o’ her ministrations while we’re out and ’bout the countryside, seein’ to the rents.”

 

The captain shifted his weight in the saddle. “And where might you be in that regard?”

 

“In four days hence or there ’bouts, we’ll be doon wi’ the task and on our way back to Leoch.”

 

Bending forward over the leather pommel, Randall demanded, “Then I would suggest you bring Mrs. Beauchamp to Fort William for interrogation when you’ve successfully completed your duties, if you wish to spare your countrymen at Leoch some unpleasant consequences.”

 

“Aye. That can be arranged.”

 

What was he saying? Randall was a malicious blackheart, one the Scots abhorred. Why would Dougal agree to such a thing?

 

Captain Randall nodded toward us and gestured to his men. “Good day to you, sir.”

 

He pulled on the reins, banking the horse around, his men following, in a cloud of dust.

 

Rupert leaned over and spit upon the roadside. “Filthy redcoat.”

 

In dire need of an explanation, I began, “Dougal, I—”

 

“Get back on yer horse, Lass. We’ll discuss this matter later; after all the rent’s been collected.”

 

Surely he wouldn’t release me to Fort William, but what could I do to prevent it from happening, if, in fact, that was his plan? Swallowing hard, my fear was twofold—being turned over to Randall, and at the same time, worrying about Jamie’s safety.

 

I was left with a pounding in my heart that remained until my sweet Scotsman slipped under the blankets and onto his pallet beside me once again. With a sigh of relief, I let the Sandman do his job.

 

**. . . . .**

 

Our task was done in half the time that Dougal had estimated for Randall. It seemed he was rushing through the countryside, and pushing people to settle up as fast as possible. Leoch loomed before us in two days time. Confused, I half expected him to dump me off at Fort William; instead, we were on the opposite end of the county. What was he up to?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. A Flight Into the Night

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander     Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

The castle was in a state of excitement. Apparently, some auspicious occasion would occur in the next three days, so I imagined it was the reason Dougal was so keen to return to Leoch. In actuality, it was more than that. The afternoon before the oath-taking ceremony or whatever the hell it was called, the warchief came into the surgery to have the little discussion that had been postponed earlier in the week.

 

He stood rigid before me. “I promised ye as I’d explain what happened when Captain Randall stopped us. I suppose ye’re wonderin’ why I told the man as I’d arrange to have ye taken to Fort William.”

 

“You suppose correctly. Go on then. Explain yourself, sir; I’m on tenterhooks, waiting to hear what you have to say.”

 

“Weel, it’s this: if ye’re marrit to a Scotsman, then Randall has nay authority to keep ye at Fort William. Ye’ll be a Scottish subject. So, in four days hence, ye’ll take yer vows and be a marrit woman again. Ned has already drawn op the documents.”

 

Tossing my head, saucily, I fired back, “And who pray tell, is the unfortunate bridegroom?”

 

“Do I need to spell it out for ye? Myself, o’ course.”

 

I rolled my eyes. I knew that was forthcoming. “Of course it is.”

 

He grabbed me by one shoulder. “Dinna give me any o’ yer sass, woman. This is for yer own protection, unless ye’d like me to turn ye o’er to that depraved monster.”

 

 _And who is to protect me from you?_ I said nothing in response.

 

“We’ll be marrit soon, and ye’ll learn to curb that sharp tongue o’ yers. Yer late husband might o’ tolerated it, but I wilna abide it. Is that clear to ye?”

 

Restraining myself from bowing and saying, _Yes, Master,_ I instead muttered, “Perfectly.”

 

My insides were boiling with rage. I wanted to gouge his bloody eyeballs out. Maybe I could pepper his food with dried Nerium leaves. Spavined weasel!

 

**. . . . .**

 

Good lord, if I agreed to this arrangement, I’d be wife to a brute, yet, if I didn’t, I’d be handed over to a bigger brute. What a pernicious turn of events. There was no other recourse than to attempt another flight.

 

For the next three days, I gathered up enough clothes and food to last me approximately forty-eight hours. I was determined to leave on the night when the men were busy declaring their oaths. That way, in all the kerfuffle, no one would notice that I was missing.

 

Jamie continued to be with me whenever circumstances allowed. The guilt I felt at not being able to say anything about my escape plan was killing me. It was unconscionable to be leaving him without an explanation or saying goodbye. However, the fact remained—he couldn’t very well stop Dougal, or Randall either for that matter, and I had no wish to be the cause of his death, for that most certainly would be his fate if he tried.

 

All the times that Jamie and were together, I sensed Dougal’s eyes tracking us. We never blatantly displayed our affection for each other except in our facial expressions though, keeping our more intimate moments away from the public view. Still, he was akin to a raptor in that respect.

 

**. . . . .**

The night of the oath ritual, I became aware of Jamie’s glaring absence. Inquiring why he wasn’t at this gathering, I went to seek out Murtagh. I gazed at his dour countenance and bravely asked, “Shouldn’t Jamie be here? After all, Colum is his uncle.”

 

Murtagh furrowed his brow as if pondering whether or not to tell me the reason for his cousin’s absence. “I expect Jamie wouldna mind ye knowing the truth o’ it. And … weel, ye see, he canna rightly give his oath to Leoch, when it’s already pledged to Lallybroch. If he refuses, he’ll be a target for an assassin, and if he does, Dougal will want him outta the way. He fears support for young Jamie, it’s no a secret that he wants the lairdship for himself.”

 

No wonder Jamie was nowhere to be found, who could blame him? At any rate, having my doting Scotsman missing in action, was a great relief to me, as I would probably break down in tears with the realization that this would be our last meeting.

 

In the middle of the proceedings, I hurried to the surgery. Taking my cloak from its peg, I draped it over my arm so as to obscure the bundle I’d be carrying. Then, wrapping my arisaid about my shoulders, I retrieved my cache of provisions from its hiding place and headed toward the stable to get Brimstone outfitted for our journey.

 

 **# # # # #**   

 

Nay greater pleasure was to be found than to be wi’ my Sassenach. Ever’ morn I felt gladness fill my bosom when I kent as I’d be seein’ her agin that day, yet as much as our continued acquaintance made my heart leap ’bout, I kent as somethin’ was verra wrong. Dougal watched us like a hound on the scent, more so even than afore. Claire seemed a bit skittish as weel. She didna reveal why it was so, and for that, I began to feel uneasy. What was it as she couldna tell me? Did it have anathin’ to do wi’ the redcoat encounter while travelin’ for the rent collection?

 

I queried Murtagh one day in private. He was walkin’ out by the garden, and thank the stars, the area was deserted. We leaned agin’ an ivy-covered wall whilst I offered him my flask o’ whiskey, hopin’ it’d loosen his tongue. “Nay a one has told me the tale ’bout the day Randall stopped us on the road.”

 

Murtagh took a swig, then wiped his lips wi’ the back o’ his hand. Returnin’ it to me, he nodded, and pointin’ a finger at me, said, “Aye, Lad, and far be it for me to be givin’ ye the particulars. Yer uncle forbids us to talk ’bout it. So, if it’s eatin’ at yer craw, ye’ll havta go see the man, and ask him yerself.”

 

Takin’ a draught o’ my own whiskey, I replied, “Is that so?”

 

“I’m no jestin’ wi’ ye, Jamie. We’re all puzzlin’ it out. I expect he has his reasons, ye ken.”

 

I walked away, shakin’ my head and wonderin’ why the incident wi’ Randall was such a bluidy secret.

 

**. . . . .**

The night o’ the oath-takin’ came round, and I was destined to be hidin’ my face from the lot o’ them at the gatherin’. Kinship aside, there were those amongst the throng who, one way or t’other, wished me dead. Thus, nappin’ in a bed o’ straw in a corner o’ the stable, I suddenly heard footsteps approach, and a loud gasp as the sneaky person tripped o’er my body in the dark. Startled, I instinctively unsheathed my weapon, ready to slit the cur’s throat.

 

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” she exclaimed as my dirk was poised at her neck. What was she doing here traipsin’ ’bout at night, and wi’ a suspicious bundle as dropped from her grasp? The thought entered my mind as she was once more tryin’ to escape. Stars and stones, if I hadna been lyin’ ’bout in the straw, she wouldha been gone—wi’out e’en sayin’ goodbye. Sassenach would ne’er have gotten far tho’, forbye there were additional guards posted outside the Castle boundaries, and she wouldha been dragged back and punished for certain.

 

She fairly spouted, “What in the bloody hell are you doing out here?”

 

“It should be obvious to ye, as I’m hidin’, and I _was_ sleepin’ ’til ye stepped yer foot on my belly. Now, what brings ye here?”

 

Claire huffed, still frustrated wi’ me I expect, in thwartin’ her plan to flee from this place. “It’s nothing to concern yourself about.”

 

Claire brushed the straw from her skirt, as I helped her up. She took a deep breath and groaned, “Blast … You must let me go. I have to get away tonight.”

 

Sadly, my suspicions were correct; she had a mind to leave. “Ye dinna love me then?”

 

“Oh, Jamie, I do, but it’s impossible for me to stay.”

 

“Why?”

 

“If you must know, it’s Dougal. He plans to marry me tomorrow, or forcing me into wedding him, I should say.”

 

I was no prepared for that statement, and I jerked in astonishment. “Ye kent this all the time we were t’gether here the three days past and made nary a mention?”

 

“I didn’t want you getting hurt. I knew you’d protest and get into a bloody duel. You or Dougal would be dead. Even if you survived the clash with your uncle, Colum, would have your head. I couldn’t let that happen. Don’t you see? It would be a battle over me. It would be all my fault.”

 

“Aye, I understand what ye’re tellin’ me. But why tomorrow? Why is he rushin’ ye so?”

 

Claire looked straight into my eyes as she explained, “That day on the road, when the redcoats came upon us, Randall issued an order. He demands that I come to Fort William for interrogation. Dougal says if I’m married to a Scotsman, the captain will have to concede to Scottish law. I won’t be required to go.”

 

“Ah … now that makes some sense o’ it. But if ye think to escape these walls on yer own, weel … that wilna be easily doon. I suppose I’ll be goin’ wi’ ye then, and I’ll no hear any arguments ’bout it.”

 

I saddled op Donas and Brimstone, and we rode off into the night. We traveled thru the back trails, avoidin’ the guards. 

 

Claire curbed her animal to a stop; I turned to see why she wasna followin’ me.

 

“Why are we going this way? Isn’t Inverness in the opposite direction?”

 

I reined Donas ’bout to where she was halted. “Aye. But, our Laird has doubled the sentries ’bout the perimeter o’ the grounds. Extra precautions what wi’ the gatherin’ in progress, ye ken. Leastwise, unless ye’re familiar with the area, ye’ll be taken captive right quick and Colum will have ye punished, I expect.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

 

“That’s why I must go wi’ ye … that and the fact as I didna want ye to leave me behind.”

 

“Jamie, it wasn’t my plan to go, but I couldn’t have your death on my conscience.”

 

“Ye’re forgiven, Sassenach. I’m only too glad as I was asleep in the stable this night. Now, dinna fash, we’ll make it to Inverness in two day’s time.”

 

**# # # # #**

My nerves calmed somewhat knowing that Jamie was with me as my protector. He’d die rather than let anyone harm me. He knew the area better than I did as well, so at least I wouldn’t get hopelessly lost, and if the food ran out, Jamie could always catch a rabbit or two.

 

We were well beyond the bounds of Leoch, and after a few more miles put behind us, we ventured deeper into the forest where it would be more difficult to find us. When Jamie found a suitable location, we bedded down for the night, but without the warm luxury of a campfire; the flames no doubt, an indication that someone had set up camp. I was so exhausted; emotionally drained by the stress of Dougal’s proposal, and dread of leaving Jamie. Notwithstanding the cold, I fell asleep immediately, safe in the knowledge that my faithful Scotch warrior was laid out beside me.

 

**. . . . .**

I awoke to raindrops falling on my eyelids. It looked to be one of those wet Scottish days. Lovely …

 

We trudged through mud and slosh, creeping along at a snail’s pace. At this rate, we’d arrive at Inverness in 1945!

 

Stopping for lunch, I inadvertently started to laugh, our circumstances seemingly ridiculous.

 

With his eyes wide, Jamie said, “Ye’re laughin’?”

 

“Yes … well, if I don’t laugh, I’ll probably cry, not that you’d notice with all this blasted rain drowning us.”

 

He smiled as the droplets slithered down the tendrils of his hair, leaving wet trails on his forehead.

 

“Aye, there’s nay thwartin’ Mother Nature, ye ken. I know o’ a place op ahead; a cave o’ sorts where we can stay for t’night. I’ll build a fire forbye, so we can dry our clothes.”

 

A shelter from the rain and the wind … a fire, and dry clothes … it sounded like heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. A Heart Full of Hope

 

 

Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander         Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! The rain never let up the whole bloomin’ day, and so it was with great relief when we finally came upon the small cavern that Jamie had alluded to earlier. I wondered though, how Jamie would be able to start a fire when the weather was so inclement, but luckily, someone with tremendous foresight had stacked a heap of dry logs against the far wall.

 

After the fire began putting out heat, Jamie stepped outside into the downpour so I could strip off my sopping garments. Wrapping myself in a blanket, I sat on the hides I’d spread out on the floor previously, and yelled to him, “You can come in now.”

 

My Scotsman stuck his head into the mouth of the cave and shook off the glistening drops of water from his curly, red mane.

 

I felt horrid that I had dragged him into this miserable situation … but then he did volunteer, and god in heaven, unbelievably, the man stood there with a smile on his rain-streaked face.

 

Not wishing the poor man to suffer any longer, I suggested, “Go ahead, Jamie. I promise not to look.”

 

I turned around, facing the opposite direction as he doffed his dripping clothes. Then, like me, he wrapped a blanket about himself and sat next to me on the hides.

 

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” I muttered sardonically.

 

“A Pair?”

 

“Yes, you know … a pair of blithering idiots.”

 

He nodded in agreement. “Ah …”

 

**. . . . .**

I ate with one hand holding tight to my blanket. Jamie had no such problem, being a man, drat it. He just allowed the wool fabric to fall across his lap.

 

Even with the fire blazing away, it was still quite chilly in the subterranean space. Jamie not only butted our hides together as usual, but also stretched each blanket to cover both of us.

 

We put a little distance between us, since we were naked as newborns, but sometime during the night, I felt Jamie pulling me closer, and it didn’t take a brain surgeon to surmise that the man was getting amorous.

 

**# # # # #**

 

It took me awhile to fall asleep, knowin’ as I did as the object o’ my desire was lyin’ by me, wi’ naught but these blankets coverin’ her body and mine. When I drifted off, I dreamt as I was makin’ love to _mo nighean donn_ and stars and stones, I was startled awake by Claire clutchin’ me in a most passionate embrace. Her form was pressed into mine, our intimate parts touchin’, and then, her fingers were combin’ thru my hair, and her mouth latched itself to my own. Tho’ pleasurable as it was, and hard as it was to stop, I had to extricate myself from her, and offer an apology. 

 

Humiliation was apparent as weel as my body’s response to her closeness. “Claire,” I stammered. “I’m deeply sorry. I didna mean to betray yer trust. My only excuse is as I was dreamin’, and in it, to my shame, we were joining our bodies, ye ken … in a conjugal way. Can ye e’er forgive me for wantin’ ye so? I swear on my mother’s grave as I didna purposely intend to seduce ye in such an ungentlemanly manner, e’en tho’, the wantin’ is so strong.”

 

My Sassenach seemed to be ignorin’ my words and embarrassment, as she was pantin’; her breaths gallopin’ along as fast as mine.

 

“Jamie …” she murmured in a breathy sort o’ voice. “There’s no cause to apologize. In fact, I should be the _one_ to say I’m sorry, but you were so near to me, and I’m in love with you, and I imagine I just got swept away in the heat of the moment.”

 

“Nay, I canna excuse myself. I’ll no sully ye in that fashion.”

 

Claire stroked my face and kissed the side o’ my jaw sendin’ the tingles down my spine, and startin’ op my amorous feelin’s once more. I couldna stand it, and I sprang op, flingin’ back the covers, and got into my damp kilt.

 

**# # # # #**

The poor man was beside himself with unwarranted disgrace, yet I wasn’t a bit embarrassed, for what did he expect, lying underneath the blankets, side by side with only air to separate our naked bodies? I was actually surprised this little slip of indiscretion hadn’t occurred sooner.

 

Jamie was tall and handsome, in possession of a body worthy of an Olympic god. I hadn’t lain with a man for these many months, and I missed the intimacy, notwithstanding my libido hadn’t abated in consequence of my celibate state—far from it. I was a proverbial match waiting to be struck.

 

When I felt Jamie’s hands gliding over me, and his lips traveling from my mouth to my throat and breasts. Well … he ignited the embers within me, and they roared to a flaming inferno. Throwing caution to the wind, I responded in like fashion. The temptation was too great, and I didn’t care a fig if I burned in hell for it. He’d stoked the flames, and it was up to him to snuff it out. Unfortunately, with his renowned sense of honor, he put a stop to my advances and hopped off of the pallet.

 

What happened next was a totally unexpected turn of events. Jamie stood over me, fully clothed in his sark, jerkin, and kilt, a serious expression on his face. He fell onto his knees and took one of my hands in his.

 

“Sassenach … ye ken as I love ye so. I’ve loved ye since the first time I laid my eyes opon ye, and that’s the truth o’ it. I want ye to stay wi’ me.”

 

He paused for a moment, and swallowed, choosing his words with great care. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, I havna anathin’ to offer ye, except for my undyin’ love.” Sighing, he added, “No e’en a ring, but I’d deem it a privilege, nay … a miracle, if ye’d say ye would marry me … will ye?”

 

Oh, my lord, those lake-blue eyes sent out a message of such pleading, and vulnerability that I couldn’t in good conscience hurt the poor boy, not that I would even consider it. After weathering the initial shock, it did seem the perfect solution. I would legally be out of Randall and Dougal’s reach. That and the more pressing issue—the sexual tension between us—would be resolved. What was there to think about? I loved Jamie, and he loved me. I had to face the fact that I could never return to Frank; my attempts all culminating in abysmal failure. His memory grew fainter day by day.

 

I took a long, calming breath, and blurted, “Yes.”

 

His eyes widened with joy, he fairly shouted, “Sassenach, d’ye mean it? Truly?”

 

“Yes, truly.”

 

“Weel then, can ye hurry a bit and get dressed?”

 

“You mean, now?”

 

“Aye, for Paul said: _But if they canna contain, let them marry, for it is better to marry than to burn. 1 Corinthians 7: 9._ He wrote as weel: _Ne’ertheless, to avoid fornication, let ever’ man have his own wife, and let ever’ woman have her own husband, 1 Corinthians 7: 2._ ”

“Jamie Fraser! I’m impressed. I had no idea you were such a scholar of the bible.”

 

“My da used to read to us ever’ morn afore we began our chores. Now _druit_ , afore I succumb to yer charms, and havta confess my sins o’ a carnal nature to the parish priest.”

 

**# # # # #**

The storm had settled into a fine drizzle, and so I was able to speak to my bonny lass as we rode along. “I ken as ye’re no a Papist, but would ye mind verra much if we marry in a kirk? There’s one just op the road apiece.”

 

“If that pleases you, then fine. I’m of the Church of England myself actually, albeit in name only. My uncle had no time for religion and wasn’t much of a churchgoer. As a result, I’m not either. I’m not against religion, per se, I just never gave it much thought.”

 

That bein’ said, for some reason, Claire began to giggle.

 

“What is it, _mo cridhe_?”

 

“I’m imagining the scowl on Dougal’s face when he discovers we’re wed.”

 

I chuckled at the response. “Aye. I dinna suppose he’ll be verra pleased wi’ us.”

 

“No, not at all.

 

“Oh, wait. What about the banns? Don’t they have to be posted for two weeks?”

 

“Nay, I have a plan, but I wilna be brandishin’ a sword at the clergyman, forcin’ the priest to wed us like my uncle would. So, dinna be worrit ’bout it.”

 

My lass rolled her eyes ’bout. “Who’s worried?”

 

**. . . . .**

I led Claire into the nave o’ the kirk, seating her. I told her to wait there whilst I talked to the priest. I then went outside and knocked loudly on the door o’ the rectory. The man answered, and invited me enter.

 

I then spun my tale. “Father, we dinna have the time to post the banns. Her parents disapprove o’ our bein’ marrit, but she’s wi’ child—my child, and I wish to do the honorable thin’ by her. I canna allow her to bear the shame alone … so please, will ye marry us t’night, afore they find us, and take her away from me? I beg you.”

 

The man ne’er blinked an eye. I suppose he was privy to many a sinner’s story o’ ignominy. “This is most unusual, my son, but I see nay way outta it. I wilna chastise ye for layin’ wi’ her in sin, seein’ as ye’re willin’ to marry the girl and right the wrong ye’ve done. If ye’ll but wait outside wi’ her, I’ll get ready. Ye’ll be be marrit in the sight o’ God, in the next few minutes.

 

“Did ye think to bring any witnesses wi’ ye.”

 

“I’m afeared no.”

 

“All right then, I’ll waken my cook and the gardener.”

 

**. . . . .**

When I returned to the kirk and told her as the priest would be there shortly, Sassenach asked, “However did you manage it?”

 

I made the sign o’ the cross, and explained, “I told a wee tale o’ woe, forbye it was only a white lie.”

 

“I can just imagine,” she mumbled.

 

There was yet the problem o’ no havin’ a weddin’ band. Claire seemed to be aware o’ my ponderin’s, and kept starin’ at the gold encirclin’ the finger on her left hand. “We can always use this ring from my first husband.”

 

Affronted by that statement, I argued, “Nay, I wilna start our marriage wi’ the use o’ another man’s ring. I canna do it. I’ll pluck the hair from my head and fashion one myself if it comes to that, but perchance the rector may help us in that regard.”

 

She was ’bout to counter my protest when I heard footsteps approach. Both o’ our heads shot op as the good Father and the two witnesses walked down the aisle toward us.

 

**. . . . .**

Listenin’ intently to the words as were spoken by the rector, I felt a surge o’ love for my Sassenach. I gazed into her eyes wi’ humble gratitude in my heart for the day as brought her to me. E’en wi’out all the trappin’s and such as a new bride would be attired, Claire was bonny … and she would soon be mine. Holdin’ her hand at the altar, I exchanged my vows with hers. I didna make the vows lightly and would do my best to protect and care for her all my bairn days.

 

**# # # # #**

The ceremony was simple, but hallowed. I caught myself staring at Jamie in wonderment. He was hanging on every syllable the priest uttered, taking into account the seriousness of this occasion, and I knew he would die rather than break his covenant with me. The man was so loving and genuine. I felt my heart fluttering while we spoke the solemn words of our wedding vows.

 

Everything went according to plan except when the priest said, “Have you the ring?”

 

I looked at Jamie, who shrugged, sheepishly. The priest, clearly exasperated with us, shook his head, clicking his tongue all the while. He leaned over and whispered something to the man I assumed was the gardener. The man left, and was back a few minutes later, holding a gold wedding band, engraved with a Celtic-knot border, which he handed to my clueless groom. My husband then slipped the ring on the finger of my right hand and brushed his lips over the symbol of our union.

 

With the ritual complete, Jamie kissed me soundly, and paid the clergyman, thanking him profusely. The ring was given to us gratis, as apparently, it had been lying in the lost and found box, unclaimed, for months. Hopefully, the next couple contemplating marriage would be much better prepared than the likes of us.

 

 

 

 

 


	11. The Crown and Thistle

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander               Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

We left the church, and I was confused as to where we were headed. “We’re not going back to the cave?”

 

“Och … nay, I’ll no have my new bride spend her weddin’ night lyin’ on a filthy hide in a cavern much like a hibernatin’ bear. Isna fittin’ atall. We’ll put op at an Inn, so ye can sleep on a right fine mattress, wi’ a roof o’er yer head, and a hearth cracklin’ wi’ heat from a good, wood-burnin’ fire.”

 

It wasn’t long until we came to the _The Crown and Thistle,_ a stately tavern and inn, which was a cut above some of the other places I had visited. Jamie had his arm around me protectively as he paid for the night’s lodging, even though the bleary-eyed patrons that remained inside seemed harmless enough.

 

When we reached our room, Jamie swept me up in his arms and carried me over the threshold, kissing me before lowering me to the floor.

 

We removed our shoes, kicking them under the bed.

 

“Weel, Mrs. Fraser, will ye be wantin’ a sip o’ the whiskey afore we consummate our union.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I thought as maybe ye might be feelin’ a bit nervous, ye ken.”

 

“I’m not nervous. I love you, Jamie. It’ll be fine. Are _you_ nervous?” 

 

Jamie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Aye, a bit.”

 

“Well, don’t be.” I turned my back to him, “Can you help me with this corset?”

 

He stepped closer and began moving his fingers among the laces, pulling each out of its individual eyelet.

 

The constricting garment fell away, and I stepped out of my skirt next. Pivoting around to face Jamie, I noticed the worried look on his face. I stood there in my shift, and in my stocking feet, reached up on my tiptoes to match his lips with mine. He responded hungrily at first, clutching me to his chest, but then drew away slightly.

 

I had no idea what was going on in that brain of his. “What is it, Jamie? For heaven’s sake, you were so randy when we were together in the cavern, you were practically ravishing me.”

 

“Aye, but then, I was only dreamin’.”

 

“And now?”

 

“And now, it’s real, and afore we go any further … I must tell ye somethin’.”

 

“Jamie, it’s fine. I understand if you’re afraid of hurting me, but I assure you, that won’t happen. After all, I’m not a virgin.”

 

He walked to the bed and sat down, averting his eyes. Sighing loudly, he said, “The thin’ o’ it is; I am.”

 

I couldn’t think of what to say to that revelation.

 

I sat beside him, organizing my thoughts. “You know, I was a virgin once as well. There’s no shame in it. Actually, I find it kind of sweet.”

 

“But ye’re a woman. I’m a man, and—”

 

“What bloody difference does that make?”

 

“I’m supposed to take the lead. I’m supposed to ken what pleases a woman.”

 

“There’s a first time for everything. Anyway, I have a distinct feeling that you’ll catch on very quickly. Now kiss me you fool.”

 

Tugging on his hands, I pulled him up to meet me. With his face held in my palms, I peered into those lake-blue eyes and smiled in encouragement. He hesitated for a minute, then sought out my lips tentatively. I held back, letting him take the reins to buoy up his fragile, masculine pride.

 

True to my prediction, his kisses became more urgent, trailing down my throat and behind my ear. I could hear his breathing accelerate, and felt his arms tightening their hold on me.

 

**# # # # #**

As much as I anticipated makin’ love to mo nighean donn, I was afeared as she’d laugh at my clumsy attempt to take her. I’d ne’er lain wi’ a woman afore, and lovin’ her like I did, I wanted nothin’ more than to please her on our weddin’ night. It wouldna do for my Sassenach to lose all respect for me on that account.

 

In my dream, we came t’gether wi’ nary a bit o’ trouble, but would that carry o’er to what was in true life? My heart began to beat faster, the fear risin’ op in me. I loved her so, and wished wi’ all my soul to be acceptable in her eyes, a lover worth his weight.

 

For these many weeks, I wanted to tell her the facts o’ my innocence in carnal matters, but ’til now, there wasna a need—a need that prompted such flutterin’s in my stomach as to make me ill. My Sassenach discerned my discomfiture and pried the reason right outta me.

 

Sinkin’ down to the mattress, I confessed my inexperience, but that didna deter my feisty lass. She drew me opright, and told me to kiss her. Those words soothed me somewhat, and after our lips moved t’gether, the fear in me fled, and I couldna control my impulses.

 

Claire stepped back long enough to doff my jerkin and sark. When my bare chest touched the thin gauze o’ her shift, the soft mounds o’ her breasts pressed agin’ me; my body began to scream for release. Wi’out thinkin’ I unbuckled my kilt lettin’ the fabric fall to the floor. I lifted my woman by her thighs, wrapping her long legs ’bout my waist, and walked us to the bed, layin’ us both on the mattress.

 

She guided my hands wi’out speakin’ a syllable. And finally, writhin’ ’bout amongst the blankets, she whispered, “Now, Jamie, please,” when it was time to be joined. Her little noises and moans startled me, but then began to send me to blissful heights. God in heaven, there were nay words to express the sheer feelin’ as was so powerful as to make me shudder in ecstasy. Such was my pleasure, as I wanted to shout her name to the rooftops. My only wish was, as I could prolong the feelin’. It was o’er too soon to my mind. Sassenach explained as I would learn to make it last a bit longer, and for that I was grateful.

 

We slept for the rest o’ the night; my body cupped to hers, much like two spoons in a cupboard drawer. I kent as I’d like to sleep this way for the rest o’ my bairn days, hopin’ as there’d be many o’ them.

 

**. . . . .**

I awoke to sense Jamie’s piercing, blue eyes staring at me. I stretched and yawned, then twisted my neck to see his expression. As expected, he appeared to be composed … smug even.

 

“I told you that you needn’t be nervous. So, see. It wasn’t that dreadful, was it?”

 

Och … nay. It was the most pleasurable thin’ I e’er experienced. Were ye pleased as weel?”

 

“Yes, it certainly was everything I hoped it would be.”

 

“Good.

 

His face scrunched up in consternation. “I didna ken as ye’d be makin’ those sounds, tho’, and I was afeared at first as I was maybe hurtin’ ye. Ye’re no hurt then?”

 

“Heavens, no! Quite the opposite.”

 

His face colored as he spoke the next words. “Sassenach …”

 

“Hmn …”

 

“Would ye mind … I mean, d’ye think …”

 

His cheeks were burning; the poor boy embarrassed to ask for an encore. I put him out of his misery by turning over to face him and letting my mouth glide in a trail down to his abdomen. He took that as his cue, and soon we were once more in the throes of passion.

 

It was thrilling to me that he was so eager after only one bout, unlike Frank, who I had to practically beg to make love to me. I felt as though Jamie and I were going to be good for each other, in more ways than one.

 

**. . . . .**

What sloths we were that day. We lay in bed in a most decadent manner, until our stomachs growled that it was time to get up and on with it. It didn’t help that the aroma of food being cooked wafted up to our room from the kitchen.

 

Jamie was the first of us to climb out of bed and into his kilt. He had just pulled on his boots, when the door burst inward, the bolt separating and splintering the wooden frame. There in the opening stood a very belligerent warchief, Rupert and Murtagh on either side of him. How on earth did they find us?

 

Still in the bed, dressed only in my shift, I drew the covers up to my neck. Dougal glared at us, shouting first at me, then his nephew, “So, the ruttin’ little trollop has made off wi’ young Jamie, aye? And I see as ye’ve tupped her.”

 

“It’s no what it seems, Dougal. The lass and I are legally marrit.” He reached for the nearby chair with one arm and retrieved our marriage certificate, waving it at the man.

 

“It means nothin’ to me. I’ll have yer bollacks for this. Then when she’s widowed agin, I’ll have her take the vows wi’ me, whether she likes it or no.”

 

Dougal lunged headlong into the room, sword drawn and racing toward Jamie. My new husband grabbed his dirk and broadsword, parrying off Dougal’s attack. I screamed, and hopped out of bed, hurrying to gather up my clothes, and donning them as fast as I could.

 

Murtagh was yelling at Dougal, “Leave off, man. They’re marrit.” Rupert, at the same time, stepped inside and scurried me out the door to protect me from the two furiously dueling idiots.

 

The swords were clashing; the clink of metal against metal ringing in the air. Furniture was knocked aside, thudding to the floor. I gasped as my sweetheart jerked back, narrowly missing the point of the older man’s weapon. Jamie’s quick reflexes saved him numerous times from the vicious onslaught, and finally, he managed to slash at Dougal’s sword arm, drawing blood. When the surprised warchief staggered back, Murtagh and Rupert dragged him from the room, while he sputtered, and struggled with them.

 

“Go—the two o’ ye. Now!” Murtagh shouted.

 

Clutching his clothing and weapons, Jamie dashed with me down the stairs and out to the stables. He halted long enough to lace me up and pull his shirt down over his head. I quickly helped him into his jerkin and coat, buckled on his bandoleer, and he then replaced his sword into its sheath after wiping the blade off in the straw.

 

I looked around the stable. Where was Brimstone? Bloody hell, did some horse thief arrive in the night? There was no time to search for her, so Jamie saddled up Donas. We rode in tandem astride the poor beast until we felt we’d put enough distance between us and the raging maniac that was attempting to cut Jamie to ribbons.

 

**. . . . .**

 

We hid out once more at the little cavern, our happiness dashed to pieces.

 

I sat on the one hide left to us, my hands folded in my lap. “I don’t understand. How did Dougal find us?”

 

Jamie added more kindling to the fire he built, then joined me on the pallet. “Did ye no see the horses inside the stable? I kent who they belonged to. I cared for the lot o’ them long enough. Dougal must’ve gone to ever’ tavern in the whole o’ Scotland searchin’ for us. When he stabled the animals, he set his eyes on Donas and Brimstone and kent right quick as we were rentin’ a room there.”

 

“But I should think that Murtagh above all, would refuse to help your uncle, knowing how jealous he was of you.”

 

“That as it may be, yet, he’s sworn to Leoch, and has nary a say in the service o’ Colum and Dougal. He canna renounce his oath; they’d as soon slit his throat as look at him. An oath is bindin’, ye see. Ye gave yer word, and it’d be the ruin o’ yer honor for withdrawin’ it for any reason atall.”

 

I was so sick of hearing about the imbeciles and their honor. “How can you stand it? Your own uncle tried to kill you this morning.”

 

Jamie stared long and hard into my eyes, never blinking. “I ken how the man feels, as I’d feel the same if he’d carried ye off and marrit ye. The love o’ a woman can do insensible thin’s to yer mind. Love is a kind o’ madness in a way. I canna blame him for it.”

 

Placing my palm on his cheek, I murmured, “You’re too forgiving, Jamie.” _How I’d love to bloody throttle the man._

 


	12. Out of Reach

 

 

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander    Banner by LOS 

**. . . . .**

Jamie held my hand as we sat together talking and staring into the fire. How did everything go so wrong in such a minute amount of time? It was bad enough that this string of unfortunate events befell me, but now, poor Jamie was steeped in the thick of it as well. He did nothing worthy of such an atrocity; his only sin lay in loving me.

 

Engrossed in conversation, Jamie suddenly put a finger to his lips, his palm facing outward to halt any further words coming from my mouth. “What is it?” I whispered.

 

“I hear a horse snortin’ outside.”

 

My heart began to pound. If Dougal discovered we were in here, it spelled doomsday for us both, since there was no way out, except for the way we came in. We held our breath, waiting for the inevitable. There was a rustle of branches being brushed aside, followed by footsteps. I jumped when a voice hissed, “Jamie … Are ye there, Lad.”

 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, it’s only Murtagh.”

 

Answering, Jamie said, “Aye. Are ye alone?”

 

His cousin poked his head into the mouth of the cave, smiling uncharacteristically. “Nay, I brought along my horse.”

 

With a wag of his finger, Jamie retorted, “A verra wee joke, Murtagh. Verra wee.”

 

Murtagh stepped inside and nodded to us. “I suppose ye’re wonderin’ how I came to be here all by my lonesome. We split op is how. Dougal sent me on ahead to scour the area and search for ye. I kent as ye’d probably be holed op here.

 

“Weel, I canna stay long or Dougal will be gettin’ a bit suspicious, ye ken. I’ll report as I hadna seen ye on the road. Isna a lie, since ye’re no on the road, aye.

 

“Oh.” He threw a large leather bag at Jamie. “I brought ye and yer new wife some victuals, as I dinna suppose ye got any breakfast this fine mornin’. There’s money in there as weel. Rupert and I tossed in the lot. Thought ye could use it.”

 

“Thank ye, Murtagh, truly. And send my gratitude to Rupert also.”

 

“Ye’re my kin, and it’d be an affront to the memory o’ yer dear mother if I didna give ye help when ye needed it. Think on it as a weddin’ present. I congratulate ye, tho’ it be late in comin’.

 

“Claire, I didna think the muckle-head would e’er get married what wi’ a price on his head and all. But I see a brave lass in ye, and I expect ye’ll make a right-fine wife for young Jamie.”

 

He shuffled his feet nervously. “Now, there’s somethin’ I must warn ye ’bout. Dougal’s no likely to stop tearin’ the land apart lookin’ for ye. I expect ye’d best stay here t’night, then get on board a boat and leave Scotland alt’gether. I’d be missin’ ye for certain, but I dinna look forward to yer stayin’ and windin’ op beneath a gravestone outside the kirk.”

 

“I ken the sense o’ it. My uncle is a stubborn man, and no likely to be dissuaded from an endeavor after settin’ his mind to it.

 

Standing, Jamie offered Murtagh his flask. “Will ye drink once wi’ me afore ye go?”

 

His cousin received the whiskey with pleasure and downed a good swig.

 

In all seriousness, my Scotsman said, “If I dinna see ye again, slainte mhath.”

 

“Do dheagh shlainte!” the man responded, then took another draught.

 

**# # # # #**

Takin’ my cousin’s advice into account, we spent the night in the confines o’ the cave; our honeymoon, no atall from what my imagination conjured op previously. Ne’erthelless, to my joy, Sassenach made nay a complaint or reproach, such was her staunch nature.

 

I placed a kiss opon her brow on arisin’ in the morn. The provisions were all eaten, and so I ventured to capture a rabbit for breakfast.

 

Claire sat op while I pulled on my clothes. “Where are you going?”

 

With a smile for my bonny new bride, I told her, “I’m goin’ huntin’ for some game. The food that Murtagh gave us isna more.”

 

“Be careful, I don’t relish becoming a widow so soon after my nuptials.”

 

“I can take heed for myself. And my uncle is long gone.”

 

“Do you suppose that Dougal has abandoned the search?”

 

“Nay, but I expect as he’s returned to Leoch, to refresh his supplies, so he can continue.”

 

Sassenach canted one eyebrow. “Well, that’s a small comfort. Come back soon, I’ll be here waiting with bated breath.”

 

“Aye. I imagine so.”

 

**. . . . .**

The area was teemin’ wi’ wildlife, and I didna havta spend much time ’til I came across a good-sized hare. One shot fired, and he lay dead. Skinnin’ and guttin’ the animal near a stream, I then trotted back to our hideout wi’ the rear legs grasped securely in my fist. I fashioned a spit and we ate the roasted rabbit afore travelin’ on our way southeast to Inverness.

 

At Inverness, I chartered a boat, and we sailed down the Beauly Forth, riding betimes on horseback when the river turned to dry earth, then again to its tributaries ’til we reached the Firth o’ Lorne, and into the sea. In six day’s time, we set foot on Ballycastle, Ireland.

 

I sold my father’s ring there to a merchant for a good price, promisin’ to redeem it when I could. A seed pearl necklace that belonged to my mother remained in my sporran, as I couldna part wi’ it. I wished to bestow it on my Sassenach, dreamin’ o’ how it would look draped ’bout her throat.

 

Claire and I rode Donas to Dungannon, where I bought a wee parcel o’ land with the money from the sale o’ my ring, and that as Murtagh had given me. Along wi’ the stead, I also purchased a few head o’ cattle, two pigs, some tools, and staples and such for the kitchen.

 

The farm was green with grass and trees and a cottage, tho’ a bit tumble-down. It could be made right by determination and hard work, I expected.

 

I surmised as there were a great many families o’ Scotch-Irish here, and so I felt at home. I didna ken whether or no if Claire felt the same.

 

**# # # # #**

We had barely set foot on our new homestead when Jamie was out gathering broom growing in an adjoining field. He was up on the roof repairing the thatch, pushing in the gads to secure the straw bundles. The man was a fiend, working until the sun set, and I had to call him down from the rickety ladder to come inside.

 

“Jamie, I’m sure you can stop now. You can finish tomorrow. It will wait.”

 

“Nay, I’ll no have the rain soakin’ thru the roof, and landin’ on mo nighean donn.”

 

“I think I can manage. There are enough pots left in here to contain any drips that should slip through the cracks in the mat.”

 

“All right, then. I’ll just anchor two more, then let the rest stay ’til morn.”

 

**. . . . .**

Before returning to the cottage, Jamie went to the woodshed and gathered some stout pieces of timber to lay beside the hearth.

 

After filling our stomachs, we sat on the rug before a roaring fire. He stared into the yellow-orange flames and sighed. “I’m sorry, Sassenach. This wasna my plan for our life t’gether. I was hopeful as we could live out our lives in peace and security at Lallybroch … ye bein’ in fine clothes, with good food, and servants at yer beck and call. I dinna blame ye if ye’re sorely disappointed in yer choice o’ a husband.”

 

“What …? Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Do you suppose I up and married you out of some frivolous caprice? Or that I was just looking for a … a fling? No, Jamie. I’m not disappointed at all. I’m happy here in our own little house, leaky roof and all. You must understand that I love you for who you are, not what you can provide me with. I would’ve married you whether or not Dougal or Randall had forced my hand. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me since I set foot in Scotland.”

 

He turned to me, and said, as though uncomprehending, “Truly?”

 

“Yes, truly.  Now take me to bed before I start screaming.”

 

**. . . . .**

 

The following morning, I awoke to see Jamie already pulling on his boots. I walked to the decrepit vanity lining the wall and sat down to brush out my hair. He came up behind me and looped a strand of freshwater pearls about my throat.

 

I lifted the necklace to get a better look at them. “Oh, Jamie, they’re lovely.”

 

“I’m afeared as they’re only Scotch pearls.”

 

“They’re still very beautiful. Thank you.”

 

 “Ye like them then?”

 

“Yes. Very much so.”

 

“Good. They were my mother’s and now they belong to the present Lady o’ Lallybroch, whether or no she’s in exile.”

 

Standing up, I pivoted to lock my arms around his waist. We hugged each other so tightly as to squeeze the very air from our lungs, but I didn’t mind one iota. Jamie kissed me soundly and was out the door to water the pigs and cattle.

 

**# # # # #**

Wi’ the taste o’ my Claire’s lips lingerin’ on mine, I looked ’round the homestead. I didna see the place as a rundown, poorly maintained farm anamore, but as the beginning o’ a future built from our love for each other. My bonny Sassenach marrit me for myself, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. We were graced wi’ nay a shillin’ to our name, yet my heart was burstin’ wi’ joy. A king’s ransom woulna make me any happier. I had the love o’ a good woman, who willingly took her vows in the kirk and promised to stay wi’ me, a poor Scotsman from the Highlands wi’ a price on his curly, red head. 

 

I walked down to the stream out back o’ the house, and filled two wooden buckets with water, hauling them to the trough for the cows, hummin’ all the way. It wasna a matter to me if I ne’er set foot in Lallybroch agin. This was my home.

**# # # # #**

 

As he left the room, I observed that the mirror reflected a contented woman standing barefoot in her shift, a string of pearls adorning her neck. I smiled, smug in the knowledge that no treasure on earth could compensate for the love that my Jamie shared with me. He crept into my heart that very first day and took up residence there. Frank now was but a fleeting shadow of my past. And Jamie—he was not just some lust-induced fling, but the truest of loves. His fears of my possible disappointment in him were grossly unfounded. While we were not by any means living in the lap of luxury, we were richer by far than all the inhabitants of Ireland. _Slainte mhath!_

 

**The End**

****

 


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